TAHITI
by msdevindanielle
Summary: The team must race against the clock to save Skye. Set after T.R.A.C.K.S. Basically, this is my take on the next episode. I hope to have lots of character interaction, but there will probably be a FitzSimmons focus, with some MayWard and a little SkyeWard. This is my first time publishing fanfiction, so please keep that in mind, but honest feedback is very much appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

She had always loved fairy tales.

After all, they were the first stories she'd heard while growing up, curled up into her father's side as he lulled her to sleep with tales of magic, far-off lands, damsels in distress, and handsome princes who came to the rescue in the nick of time.

As she grew older, she had become more and more disillusioned with the unrealistic expectations presented in those stories, choosing instead to immerse herself in the magic of atoms and enzymes, fascinated with the intricate workings of the universe and the human body. She always kept those first stories close to her heart, though, and even had a worn copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales tucked away in her bookshelf on the Bus.

But as she looked down at her friend, a girl she had only just begun to get close to, she couldn't help but be reminded of Snow White, kept in the in-between of life and death under the glass of the hyperbaric chamber. The comparison was only made worse by the hovering drone inches from her face, scanning Skye's vitals. It had been Fitz's idea to use one of the D.W.A.R.F.s to monitor Skye, and Doc was busily inputting her electrolyte and glucose levels, core temperature, and most importantly, her complete blood count. Time was crucial at this point, and Jemma didn't want to waste any on unnecessary testing before getting her into surgery.

They worked in silence, Fitz compiling the data for the hospital, and Jemma studiously monitoring the pressure and temperature of the chamber. She could feel Fitz's eyes boring into the back of her head, and knew he was monitoring her almost as much as he was Skye.

It hadn't taken her long to regain her composure after allowing herself to cry in Fitz's arms. She had allowed him to clean the blood off of her hands and face, and even consented to changing out of her stained clothes before resuming her position next to Skye. But Fitz had been relentless.

"Jemma, you need to rest."

"Not now, Fitz."

"We're not going to get there for another hour. I can watch Skye. Please, Jemma. You're going to need your energy."

"I'm fine, Fitz."

He gently grabbed her wrist and willed her to face him. She knew before she even looked in his eyes what he was going to say.

"Like hell you are."

"Fitz, I promise when this is all over, I will rest. But right now, Skye is all that matters. I have to stay here and make sure she doesn't-" She stopped herself, fighting down the hysteria. She couldn't afford another breakdown. Skye needed her. Fitz took hold of her hand and gave it a small squeeze, letting her know he understood.

"I'll stay with you then." She didn't trust herself to look at him, but she gave a small nod in thanks. He released her hand after another squeeze.

"What do you need?"

They had busily set to work preparing all the paperwork and logistical aspects of getting the hyperbaric chamber out of the Bus when they arrived, and Fitz had had his idea to use Doc to record Skye's vitals. Jemma relished in the busy work, fighting down the panic she felt rising in her chest. When everything had been completed and all she had to do was wait, she found herself wiping down the chamber with disinfectant. It was pretty unnecessary, considering the chamber wasn't actually dirty and Skye's highest chance of infection was from the open wounds in her abdomen. But it was something to do.

Her hands had stilled when she heard Doc whirring, and the image of Snow White had popped in her head. She inwardly cursed herself for the analogy, and was thankful she had nothing in her stomach to make her sick. She had been avoiding looking at Skye's face for the past hour, but her momentary lapse in control brought her gaze to the hacker's peaceful countenance. Jemma thought that if it weren't for the blood, she almost could be Snow White. She certainly was beautiful enough.

Doc's whirring slowed and she heard Fitz put the D.W.A.R.F. back in its case. She felt his elbow brush up against hers and knew he was seeking strength in her presence almost as much as she was his. They both looked down at Skye, and Jemma wondered how it was possible that in such a short amount of time, they had grown so close to this girl. She and Fitz had had friends at the Academy, sure, but none had made quite the impact that Skye had. She was an honorary part of their family now.

Jemma ached to talk to Fitz about what had happened on the train after she had been hit with the dendrotoxin grenade. He was the last member of the team Skye had talked to before she'd been shot, and Jemma knew that he was inwardly beating himself up for it. Fitz had been worrying her lately, snapping at her more often than usual when they bickered, spending more and more time tinkering with his inventions in the lab, barely sleeping. Something was bothering him, and whatever happened with Skye seemed to have made it worse. Yes, she needed to talk to him, but it would have to wait.

Coulson entered the room, interrupting her swirling thoughts. She and Fitz looked up at the same time. He had been on the phone for the last hour making sure the small S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility was ready for their arrival. Jemma would have preferred to bring Skye to the more equipped facility in London, but Skye's condition was too critical to last another hour.

"We'll be landing in five minutes. Is everything ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He nodded and left the room.

Fitz sighed and turned to face his partner. "Are _you_ ready for this, Jem?"

She put on her best brave face and nodded up at him. "Of course." She offered a small smile that she knew he didn't buy but he gave her an encouraging nod in return.

As soon as they landed it was utter chaos. Jemma tried to make herself heard over the noise as paramedics rushed the hyperbaric chamber into the hospital, followed closely by Coulson, Ward, and Fitz. She matched the pace of the doctor in charge of Skye's surgery, and indicated on the tablet the information Doc had retrieved. As they came to a door marked "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" the doctor nodded to one of the paramedics, who grabbed the tablet out of Jemma's hands and made his way through the doors.

"Hey! Be careful with that – it's got a sensitive interface!" Jemma ignored Fitz's complaints as she made her way to enter the door. The doctor turned around and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but only Level 7s past this point."

Jemma felt her head spin.

"What? No, _she's_ the only reason that _that _girl is still alive. You need her in there. I'm Level 8, and I am ordering you to let Agent Simmons go through those doors." Coulson sounded livid.

"I'm sorry, Agent Coulson, but my orders were strictly to forbid anyone under Level 7 to come into this operation."

"Oh, yeah? And who gave you those orders?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "Director Fury, sir."

There was a brief pause as everyone let this information sink in. Director Fury? How did he know what was going on? And why was Skye's surgery so important to him? Coulson looked confused, and momentarily defeated.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a life to save and very little time to do so." The doctor swiftly turned on her heel and headed through the doors. Coulson made to follow after her. He called over his shoulder, "Don't worry, Simmons. I'm going to do everything I can to get you in here."

The colors around her began to swirl and Jemma thought she might faint. She swayed on the spot and Fitz quickly put his arm around her to steady her.

"Hey, hey. It's going to be okay. You gave them all the information they needed to start the laparotomy right away."

"But who knows what they're doing with her in there? Something's not right here, Fitz." Jemma felt bile rising up in her throat as she considered all the possible things that could go wrong without her there to monitor the surgery. She suddenly felt her knees give out and was vaguely aware of strong arms catching her before she hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jemma!" Fitz's alarmed voice slowly registered in her mind. She tried to tell him that she was fine, that she just needed to sit down for a bit, but no words would come out.

"Ward, we have to get some water in her, and we need to find someplace for her to sit down."

"You think?" She heard Ward's sarcasm from near her head, and realized he must be carrying her. "I think I saw a sign for a waiting room back a little bit."

The next thing she knew, she was sitting in a small, stuffy room painted a ghastly shade of pink, with Fitz holding a paper cup of water up to her lips. She drank greedily, realizing how long she had gone without food or water. It had been the night before they boarded the train - was it possible that it was only last night? That morning she been too nervous to eat, scared that she would forget who the target was or the carefully constructed back story she had come up with. It all seemed so petty and irrelevant now.

After she had gulped down three cups worth of water, she felt her senses coming back. She met Fitz's eyes and saw so much concern and pain that she immediately glanced away. She couldn't afford any emotion right now. There was something more important to attend to, something she needed to do.

"Skye!" It all came rushing back to her and she immediately began to stand up, only to be stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, just take it easy." Ward was looking at her as if she might explode, and she forced herself to breathe deeply. "Coulson's in there right now, and he's gonna come and tell us what's going on. We just need to sit tight for now."

Jemma wanted to scream. "I can't just _sit tight_," she spat at him, and immediately regretted it. She could see how much this was costing Ward, a person who specialized in doing the exact opposite of sitting tight. She saw a mix of anxiety and something darker in his eyes as he met her gaze. "Sorry," she mumbled, ashamed. "I just…I feel so helpless."

"Tell me about it." Ward rested his head in hands, looking defeated.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, but was really more like 20 minutes. Fitz's hand had found its way to Jemma's, and when the fear for Skye became nearly unbearable, she focused on the steady movement of his thumb tracing circles on her hand. Ward had abandoned his seat and was furiously pacing the small room, which was empty except for the bored-looking receptionist.

"Where is Coulson? He should've come and given us an update by now." Ward looked ready for action.

"Well, you're Level 7, aren't you? Can't you just go in there?" Ward gave Fitz an irritated look, but softened his expression when he realized Fitz wasn't asking ironically.

"I'm not really, uh…that's not really my thing. And I'd probably just be in the way." Jemma saw how uncomfortable Ward looked, and realized he probably didn't like hospitals very much. She decided to change the subject for his sake.

"Have we heard anything from Agent May lately? Surely she's docked the Bus by now."

Ward froze mid-pace, and Jemma could almost see him make the decision to leave.

"I'll go find her," he said as he began to head towards the exit. She and Fitz immediately started to protest at the same time.

"No Ward we have to wait for Agent Coulson to come back –"

"You can't just leave us sitting here while you get to go off doing important things –"

Ward pivoted to face them, holding up his hand. "I'm just going to find her and fill her in on what's going on. I'll be right back. _Stay_. _Here_." He disappeared through the door.

Fitz groaned in frustration. "I can't take this."

Jemma looked at him with concern. Fitz had been so strong all day, barely showing any sign of emotional weakness, and she realized that he must have been doing so for her. She didn't want him to have to put on a brave front just for her sanity – she was his best friend, for goodness' sake. Jemma knew that he would need to unload soon. She hadn't wanted to have this conversation right now, but if they were going to be waiting any longer, they might as well try to sort some things out. She opened her mouth to speak, when another doorway slammed open as Agent Coulson stormed in the room.

She and Fitz immediately jumped out of their seats, talking over each other.

"What is it sir are they performing the surgery yet has she been stabilized?"

"Agent Coulson you need to get Simmons in there do you even _know_ what they're doing to her?"

Coulson held up his hands in a T, his go-to signal for her and Fitz to stop talking. They fell silent.

"They have her prepped for surgery. I'm sorry, Simmons, but they're not going to let you in there."

"But, sir –"

"Wait. I'm not finished. They don't know where exactly the damage has been done, and we won't know until after they've completed the surgery. When that happens, we need to be ready. But until then, you both need to recuperate. You've got four hours. I suggest you head back to the Bus and rest." He quelled their rising protests with a look. "And showers probably wouldn't be such a bad idea, either."

Jemma fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Sir, I think I could be of more use here."

"Simmons, I need you on top of your game. Right now, your nerves are fried and you haven't slept in over 24 hours." His expression softened. "Jemma, you've already done so much. Skye wouldn't even be alive right now if it weren't for you. You've given the doctors everything they need to take care of her. Now I need you to take care of yourself." She glanced up at him, seeing a concern in his eyes she hadn't seen since she contracted the Chitauri virus. "I can't have two agents down."

Jemma breathed out slowly. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Agent Fitz, I need you to keep a line of communication open between me and the Bus. I gotta be able to contact you immediately if you're needed." Fitz nodded, and before Jemma knew it, Coulson had left the room.

She glanced at Fitz and saw that he was just as upset about their current situation as she was. She could see him fighting the urge to rant about it, for her sake as well as his own.

"Come on, Jemma. There's nothing more we can do for her here." She nodded and let him guide her to the Bus.


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz kept his hand on the small of Jemma's back as they made their way through the hospital to the small hangar where the Bus was parked. Every so often he stole a glance at his partner, trying to gauge how she was feeling, but her stony expression failed to betray anything. He could feel a small tremor pulsating through her body, and knew she was fighting to keep her emotions at bay. He made sure his hand remained steady on her back, letting her know that she could rely on his strength to make it through the agonizing hours that lay ahead.

When they reached the Bus, she wordlessly complied as Fitz insisted she have the first shower. After he made sure all lines of communication were open, he set to work in the kitchen, busily preparing tea and something small for them to share. He had a feeling her appetite was about as minimal as his, but he knew he had to get some food into their systems. It was going to be a long night.

Before long, Jemma came into the kitchen and sat down. If anyone else had seen her at the moment, they would have seen an extremely put-together and professional scientist, the very picture of calm under duress. Her hair was still damp from the shower, but she had pulled it back into her signature ponytail and had had the presence of mind to put on a clean button-down shirt and sweater. Anyone else wouldn't have known it was all a façade to mask the lack of control she felt at the moment. Fitz felt his heart constrict as he looked at his best friend. It wasn't the breakdowns he feared – he knew Jemma kept a lot of things to herself and needed a shoulder to cry on sometimes. A breakdown would have been preferable to the look of utter defeat and hopelessness that he saw in her eyes. Those eyes that lit up at the mere mention of adventure, those eyes that he could read a million words in, seemed to stare out into space with a vacancy that scared him more than almost anything.

Without a word, he slid the mug of Earl Grey in front of her and half of the sandwich he had hastily thrown together.

She placed her hands around the mug, seeming to draw strength from its warmth. "Thank you, Fitz," she said without looking up. Her voice reflected the deadness he had seen in her eyes, and he struggled to find something to say to lighten the mood. He would never admit it, but he needed her in this moment probably more than she needed him. He needed her smile, her laugh, anything to repress the rising panic he felt threatening to take over. She had always been the one to calm him down when he was upset, but right now he couldn't afford to be upset. Jemma needed him to be strong, so he would be strong. She was sitting two feet from him, but Fitz felt like she was a thousand miles away.

"I know I'm not the world's greatest chef, but the sandwich isn't _that _terrible." Jemma hadn't touched the food in front of her, hadn't even taken a sip from her tea. His comment elicited what might have been considered a micro-expression of a smile, but it quickly disappeared.

"I'm sorry, Fitz, I just can't even think about eating right now." He nodded, understanding all too well. He had barely touched his plate either, a feat that under any other circumstances would have been considered shocking.

"All right, well you should at least drink some of that tea before it gets cold." She slowly raised the mug to her lips and tentatively took a sip. After a few more, she put the cup down and Fitz knew that that was all the progress they were going to make on that front.

"Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Oh, no, Fitz, I'm not even tired, really." She stifled a yawn, but Fitz didn't need one to know she was lying.

"Jemma, you need to sleep. Skye will need you to be completely there when she gets out of surgery."

"But what if Agent Coulson calls and I'm not there to-"

"I promise you that I will come wake you up when that happens."

"But you're not going to stay awake, are you? You need to sleep too, Fitz."

"I will - I will sleep. As soon as you get whisked away to save the day, I will blissfully set sail for the land of sweet dreams. Besides, I'm not even tired right now, and unlike you, I'm actually telling the truth." And he was. He was on full alert at the moment. Even the thought of going to sleep terrified him. He knew that as soon as he closed his eyes, he would be haunted by images that were permanently etched into his subconscious. Images of Skye's motionless body, images of bloody hands, images of Jemma's face right before she jumped out of –

He shook his head to push the thoughts aside. Not now. He tried to give Jemma his most encouraging face as he helped her off the stool and let her lean into him on the way to her bunk. He could feel her starting to drift even before they reached the sliding door.

"You promise you'll wake me up?" she mumbled as she entered the bunk. He made to pull back the covers for her, but she simply crawled onto her bed and promptly passed out. He dug through her wardrobe and found a spare blanket, spreading it out over her curled form. Carefully he removed her hair tie – he knew how much she hated sleeping with her hair up – and methodically brushed her hair back with his fingers. Her face looked so peaceful, the horrors of the day absent from her countenance. As he looked down on his sleeping partner, he wished he could freeze this moment, free from pain and heartache and the pressures of being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Looking at her sleeping face brought him back to moments past when they had tried to stay up all night studying for Professor Vaughn's midterm exam, or when he had found her one morning asleep in the lab after trying to perfect her odorless tracking scent. He longed for the days when they lived in that blissful innocence.

"Scout's honor," he whispered as he kissed her temple and left her bunk, heading downstairs to the lab.

* * *

He stood with his arms folded, watching through the glass as the doctors meticulously operated on Skye. His impassive expression failed to betray the panic and rage coursing through him. At one point a nurse came and asked him if he wanted some water or if he would like to sit down. She was met with cold silence and soon gave up trying to help him. He remained in that same position for the entire four hours.

How could he have let this happen? It wasn't supposed to have been a combat op. He thought it was a good opportunity for the kids to gain more experience in the field with minimal risk, and track a lead that might bring them to Quinn. Plus, what could go wrong in the beautiful Italian countryside? He hadn't been more unprepared since he went up against an Asgardian god with killer deceptive capabilities. Skye had just started beginning to trust him, and he had let her down. She was fighting for her life because he hadn't ensured her safety. Why had she gone in alone? She didn't need to get Quinn in order to gain his approval. She was a part of the team now - didn't she know that? _Why_ hadn't she known that?

His thoughts were interrupted when the doctor opened the door of the operating room. She pulled off her mask and gave a long sigh.

Coulson pounced. "Dr. Jazuat. Give me some good news."

"We managed to assess the damage and close up her wounds. The bullets were no longer in her abdomen, but she's suffered extensive tissue damage. We were able to get her core temperature back up to normal, but her white blood cells have slowed down considerably from the induced hypothermia. Right now, she's showing signs of infection, but –" The doctor paused, hesitating.

"But what?" Coulson needed her to get to the point.

"Her body is rejecting the antibiotics we have to combat the infection."

Coulson felt his stomach drop. This wasn't happening.

"What does that even mean?"

The doctor looked baffled.

"Somehow she's developed an immunity to the antibiotics. Honestly, I've never seen anything like this. I'm sorry sir, but if her organ tissues don't start to repair themselves very soon –"

"How long?"

Dr. Jazuat hesitated.

"Twelve hours. Tops."

Coulson whipped out his phone, and started heading towards the exit. "That girl's life is in your hands, Doctor. If she dies, it's on you, and I will personally see to it that your credentials are rejected from every hospital in any country associated with S.H.I.E.L.D. for the rest of your career."

"But sir-" the doctor called after him.

"You've got twelve hours," he shouted back. "I suggest you get busy."

He put the receiver up to his ear. "May, you're on. Time to pay a visit to our little friend Ian Quinn."


	4. Chapter 4

He had found her meditating, sitting on guard in front of the Bus's interrogation room. He knew from experience that interrupting her could be dangerous, so instead he took a seat next to her, leaning back against the door.

May opened her eyes and gave him a side-glance, her way of acknowledging his presence. He felt like a chastised schoolboy, waiting for permission to speak.

"Well?" she asked, sounding irritated.

"They took her into surgery. Simmons wasn't allowed to go in."

"Hmm," was the only response he received.

Ward sighed. "So what do we do now?"

May had closed her eyes again. "We wait."

This was not the answer he wanted. He needed to do _something_.

"Wait? We're just supposed to sit here while Skye is in there dying?"

"There's nothing more we can do right now. Coulson will let us know when we're needed."

He focused on taking deep breaths. Then he remembered. "I told FitzSimmons I would come back after I found you." After the incident on the train, he wasn't going to go back on his word like that again. He started to get up, but felt a hand on his knee. She still had her eyes closed.

"They'll be fine. They're on the Bus."

"What? How do you know that?"

May just raised an eyebrow in response. He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. May's instincts were eerily scary sometimes.

"It'll probably be a few hours before the surgery's done. You should try to get some rest, Grant."

Rest. Ward scoffed. Did she seriously think he could rest in a time like this?

He was suddenly struck with the realization that the man responsible for all of this was only a few feet away. He must have given himself away with his breathing pattern or scent or whatever terrifyingly obscure change in physiology that could be picked up by the woman next to him, because all she said was:

"No."

"But-"

"No."

Ward seethed in anger. He felt the sudden urge to hit something, anything. Instead he put his head in his hands and counted to ten. He calmed down his breathing before venturing to speak again.

"That man-" he began in a tight voice.

"Will be in there for a very long time. He's not going to get away with what he did. The only thing going in there will accomplish is making you more angry than you are right now, _and_ may or may not bring about the death of the only lead we have on what Cybertek was up to. So, no. You are _not_ going in there."

He stood up and began pacing. He was not going to wait _hours_ to do something. He couldn't get into the kind of headspace May could. Meditating was physically impossible for him.

"Grant, sit down."

He glanced at her in irritation and noticed a look in her eyes that he didn't expect. There was sadness, and a little bit of concern, and…did he detect a _tenderness _in there? He slowly made his way over to her and slid his back down the wall behind him, feeling defeat in every inch of his bones. He closed his eyes, not wanting her to look at him like that anymore, like he needed to be pitied. He felt her fingers entwine with his own and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Two displays of affection in one day? Everything about today was off.

"Why did you tell Coulson about us?" The words were out of his mouth before he even had had time to process them. He felt her body stiffen in response.

"Really? You wanna talk about this now?"

He gave a small shrug. "What else are we gonna do for the next few hours?"

There was a brief pause and Ward knew that she was choosing her words carefully.

"Ward, Agent Coulson and I have known each other for a very long time-"

"Oh, trust me. I saw the way you two were looking at each other earlier. You'd have to be an idiot not to see you two have history."

May looked away in irritation. "Seriously? You're actually jealous?" He hated the way she said it, like he was some kind of lovesick teenager who couldn't control his emotions. He hated what she said because it was true. He was jealous. She treated him like he was just some object, a faceless agent without any feelings of his own. He had thought he would have been able to handle a purely physical relationship with the Cavalry, but he had quickly realized that what he signed up for was a lot more than he had anticipated.

"_No_," he began in protest. She glared at him. "Okay, maybe. Is that such a bad thing?"

"I thought you said you could handle…" she began, trying to find the right word. "This," she finished, seeming a bit disappointed in herself for not coming up with anything better.

"I thought so too," he said quietly. "Obviously I was wrong." May was silent, at a loss for words.

He suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. He couldn't bear to be near her anymore. "I'll be downstairs," he muttered, and left before she could say anything in response.

When he entered the cargo hold, he noticed Fitz in the lab, fiddling around with one of his gadgets or other. There were bits of machinery strewn all over the tables, and he didn't even look up as Ward set up a punching bag and went to work. The two lost themselves in their own little worlds, oblivious to their surroundings and fighting to keep the poisonous thoughts from taking control.

* * *

"What exactly am I looking for, Phil?"

"We need to find out what was in that package and why it was so important. Something doesn't add up here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we were all so focused on saving Skye that we didn't even stop to question why Quinn had that chamber thing in his basement. I mean, that's weird, right?"

"Package. Chamber. Got it. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't go easy on him, May."

She smirked. "Wasn't planning on it."

* * *

When she entered the interrogation room, she already knew she was going to have trouble restraining herself from wiping that smug grin off his face. Forever.

"Ah, Melinda May," he greeted her condescendingly, as if he wasn't the one chained to the table in front of him. "I always wanted to know how it would feel to be interrogated by the Cavalry."

She chuckled mirthlessly as she slowly made her way next to him, arms crossed over her chest. He gave her a toothy grin. So much for restraint.

Before he could process her movements, she had already grabbed his head and slammed it on the table in front of him. She barely paused before proceeding to punch him in the jaw repeatedly. "Feels good, huh?" she huffed as she released her hold on him. He was still conscious, but at least that damn grin was gone.

Quinn glared at her as he tried to nurse his sore jaw, which was a little difficult considering his hands were tied up. He settled for the only retaliation he excelled at: verbal abuse.

"You know, for such a secretive woman as yourself, you seem to have an odd trust in an organization that keeps a lot of shady stuff in the dark."

May just stared at him with her arms folded and ignored him. She wasn't going to let this guy get under her skin.

"What was in the package?"

"Seriously? I just killed one of your agents and that's what you want to talk about?"

"You didn't."

"What?"

"Kill her."

Quinn looked momentarily baffled, and laughed. "Uh…" he chuckled, "I shot her. Twice. In the stomach. There's no way she survived long enough to make it to a hospital."

May inspected her nails, looking bored. "She probably wouldn't have, but you conveniently left a hyperbaric chamber in the room where we found her."

For the first time, Quinn looked genuinely uncomfortable. He quickly tried to hide his chagrin with his signature smug look. "Great, because where would we all be without Coulson's little hacker?" But May saw his faltered expression, and ignored him.

"Speaking of that chamber, you wouldn't want to talk about that now, would you?" His eyes hardened in response.

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"Oh, I've got all night." May smirked, knowing she had the upper hand.

Quinn tried to regain his sense of superiority, and plastered a grin on his face. "You're wasting your time. Maybe if you weren't so blind as to what's really going on at S.H.I.E.L.D., you'd know that the answers you're looking for are a lot closer to home than you think."

* * *

"Fitz? You there?"

Fitz looked up from the newest Night-Night pistol he had been obsessively constructing and deconstructing for the past hour. He noticed a sweaty Ward outside in the cargo hold, looking over at him in confusion.

He quickly ran over to the lab comm and responded. "Yes, Agent Coulson. Simmons and I are on our way."

"Hang on. I'm coming to you. I need you to set up a call in the conference room."

"Uh…sure thing. Who are we calling?"

"HQ. Patch me through to Director Fury."


	5. Chapter 5

"You want to _tell me_ the meaning of waking me up in the middle of the night, making me think that we had another Chitauri invasion on our hands, only to find out that all of that was because you just wanted to have a late night _chat_?" Fury was livid, his visible eye glaring at the two of them across the screen. Fitz felt extremely uncomfortable. He had never spoken to Director Fury, wasn't even Level 7 like Ward or May, but Coulson had insisted that he stay in the room for the call. Fitz highly suspected that he was there as a witness.

"I'm sorry to wake you, sir, but it's urgent." Coulson sounded like he was trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "One of my agents just came out of surgery, a surgery that you specifically ordered my biochemist to be kept out of. I want to know why."

Fury ran his hand over his face, and fixed them with a hard stare. "Agent Coulson, this is dangerous territory you're entering into. I told you, months ago, that that girl was a risk. But you didn't listen to me."

"I know, sir. I also know why she was considered a risk in the first place. What I don't know is why S.H.I.E.L.D. is so interested in an innocent kid-"

"Skye is hardly innocent-"

"Was she really such a threat 24 years ago, sir?"

Fury froze, a spark showing the first sign of fear in his eye. "Agent Coulson-" he admonished, glancing quickly over at Fitz, who looked more uncomfortable than ever and who also had no idea what was going on.

Coulson waved his hand over in Fitz's general direction. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Agent Fitz, Level 5." Coulson no longer sounded like he was trying to hide his anger. His voice rose. "Also. A good friend and teammate of the girl in question, and another person on this team who deserves to know why Skye was-"

Fury shouted over him. "Agent Coulson, if you say one more word that breaches protocol, I will personally ensure that you are relieved of your duties and demoted to doing paperwork for the rest of your time here!" Apparently he didn't think his threat was up to Coulson-level standards, because he added: "_In the Fridge_," before breathing out heavily, his jaw quivering with rage. Coulson stared down at the floor, seething. Fury seemed to calm down a bit before saying, "Look Phil, I know this must be hard for you. But what you need to do right now is _trust the system_." He made to end the call, but added, "And don't call me in the middle of the night. Ever. Again."

Fitz looked warily over at Coulson, who continued to stare at the floor. "Sir-" he began.

"Agent Fitz, I'm sorry I subjected you to that conversation, but I needed you here to get information from Fury."

"But sir, he didn't exactly give us anything-"

Coulson smirked. "The channels I had you go through to Fury were specific for a reason. We just had a conversation with him on his personal computer."

"Sir, I don't understand-"

"Skye developed a hacking program a while back that allows us to gain access to someone's computer via voice over IP. So when Director Fury answered us on his webcam-"

"We were able to get a mirror copy of his computer. Got it. But it's bound to be password-protected, right?"

"That's where you come in. As I understand it, Skye has been giving you some lessons, hasn't she?"

Fitz felt a blush on his cheeks. It had started out with him just trying to spend more time with Skye, but had quickly morphed into a trade-off of sorts. She started giving him beginner hacking lessons - simple stuff really, nothing too fancy - and in return, he was teaching her how to operate the Holotable. He really enjoyed spending time with her, but he could see the others' knowing looks when they passed them in one of their sessions. He mostly ignored them, though. Who cared if he had a little crush on Skye? For the first time in his life, he was being noticed by a girl who didn't care about his completely rational desire to acquire a pet monkey for the lab and who laughed at his jokes. Other than Jemma, she was one of the first real friends he had ever had. In school, no one had ever taken the time to get to know him. Skye wasn't like that. Skye was always interested in what he had to say. And now she was lying immobile, fighting for her life, because he was too much of a coward to stop her from going after Quinn alone. He quickly pushed those thoughts away.

Fitz scratched his head and looked everywhere but at Coulson's knowing smirk. "Um, I don't really know how to do anything really advanced, but I think I might be able to get in."

"Good," Coulson smiled. "I'm counting on it." He began to head towards the door.

"Uh, sir? What exactly am I looking for?"

Coulson turned around. "Oh, nothing too special. Just S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Level 10 Records on Classified Operations and Experiments." He closed the door, leaving Fitz in stunned silence.

"Right, then."

What on earth had he been dragged into?

* * *

She was floating in space. She knew she must be sleeping, but at the moment she wished she could float there forever. This was her favorite dream. She felt so complete, surrounded by the stars, knowing that she herself was part of an ever-expanding universe. In the dream, she was always tethered around the waist by a rope, keeping her from moving further into the abyss. Sometimes she tried to take the rope off, but whenever she did so, a firm hand held the rope in place. She never knew to whom the hand belonged, but she took comfort in knowing that even amongst the nothingness of space, she wasn't alone. This was usually the part when she woke up.

She was coaxed into consciousness by a soft voice whispering her name, accompanied by a gentle touch on the shoulder.

"Jemma. Jemma, it's time to wake up. Coulson's back, and he needs you."

"Hmm?" she replied, still in the in-between stage of sleep and wakefulness. Coulson…Coulson was back. Back from where? Oh, that's right, he was in the hospital. Why was he in the hospital? Hospital…someone was in the hospital…someone…

"Skye!" Jemma sat up abruptly and immediately wished she hadn't. Black spots danced in front of her eyes until she was finally able to focus on Fitz's face in front of hers.

"Hey, it's okay. Take it easy," Fitz put his hands on her shoulders and waited until her breathing calmed before releasing his grip.

"What's happened? Did the surgery go all right? How is Skye? What-" Fitz just looked at her and she closed her mouth.

"They're done with the surgery." Jemma let out a breath of relief. "But Jemma-" Fitz paused, looking at her with a concern that made her heart stop.

"What?" she whispered, not wanting to hear his answer but feeling as if she might explode if she didn't know. She willed herself to keep her eyes fixed on his, and braced herself for the worst.

"Skye…um…she's not responding to the antibiotics they've given her to fight infection."

"No," she breathed.

"Yeah, they, uh, they said her white blood cells have slowed too much to fight it fast enough."

"Fitz, how long does she have?" Jemma's vision blurred as she failed to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

Fitz looked down at his hands, which were wrapped tightly around her own. "Twelve hours maximum," he murmured.

Jemma felt the tears spill over and fought to hold back a sob. Fitz quickly pulled her into his arms, giving her a few moments to cry before gently disentangling himself from her and firmly placing his hands on her shoulders. He willed her to look in his eyes. "Jemma, hey. It's not over yet."

She looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Then she remembered. He had said something about Coulson needing her. "What is there to be done?" She wiped the tears off of her face and listened as he quickly gave her a rundown of the conversation between Coulson and Director Fury. She could hardly contain her shock.

"Really?" She couldn't help but smile at the situation. "_You_ hacked into Fury's computer files? What in the world has gotten into you, Leopold Fitz?"

He made a gesture of mock offense and replied, "Don't act so surprised. Sometimes I can do impressive things with my brain _and_ my bare hands."

She fought the urge to giggle. "I meant you violating probably every S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol by hacking into the personal computer of the _director_ _of the entire organization_."

"Oh, really? Is that so shocking? And who was it that shot a superior officer _in the chest_?" Fitz replied defensively.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, Fitz, are you _ever_ going to let me live that down?"

He gave her his fake serious face. "Never in a million years," he said solemnly.

She laughed, and then as quickly as her good mood had arrived, it disappeared. There was a life hanging in the balance, and she was needed. What was she doing, laughing and smiling? She didn't deserve to be happy right now.

Fitz seemed to pick up on the shift, because he quickly cleared his throat and said, "Right. We should go talk to Coulson." She nodded and began to stand up.

"Oh, um, I need a-" she said, gesturing in the general vicinity of her hair. She glanced around her bunk, looking for a spare hair tie.

"Here." She turned around to see Fitz taking one from off his wrist. She realized he must have taken it out for her when she went to sleep. She quickly muttered a thank you and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Fitz fiddled with his tie while she did so, and she noticed his ears had turned a slight shade of pink. What was that all about? It was hardly the first time Fitz had solved a hair emergency for her.

When they arrived in the lab, Jemma was surprised to see it in a state of utter chaos. She glanced alarmingly at Fitz. "What have you been doing in here?"

He avoided her gaze. "Oh, um, just tinkering around, it's nothing, really. I'll clean it up later."

His tone was nonchalant, but she could tell that something was wrong. She mentally added this to the list of the things they needed to talk about later, and walked up to Coulson.

"Sir, what do you need me to do?"

He placed a thick packet of paper on the table in front of her. "I need you to read this. Particularly the bits about the scientific experiments and serums that, frankly, is all gibberish to me."

"But sir, this is clearly only meant for Level 10 eyes. I'm hardly-"

"Does it look like I care right now?" She looked up at Coulson and saw in his eyes a determination that matched her own. He would do anything to save Skye at this point. "If there's something in here, a treatment that can save her, we need to find it."

Jemma nodded and tentatively held the front cover. Something in the back of her mind told her that she was about to pass the point of no return. But despite her doubts, she knew that Skye's life was worth it. Skye would have broken the rules for her; it was only fitting that she do the same in return. Jemma took a deep breath and turned the page.

* * *

"Anything?" Coulson asked as he found May in front of the interrogation room. Ward followed closely behind and looked mildly irritated, probably from finding out that she had had the first go at Quinn. She ignored him.

"Nothing useful. Pushed him around a bit." She smirked. "That was fun." She paused when she saw Coulson's expression. Usually when she made even a slight joke, he would smile appreciatively. Right now she could tell he was so distracted, he was barely registering anything she was saying. "Did you get anywhere with Director Fury?" Ward looked up in surprise and tried to catch her gaze. She ignored him.

Coulson chuckled. "Yeah, right. I think he's regretting bringing me back from the dead right about now." There it was. Even though he said it bitterly, it was a reminder that the Coulson she knew was still in there. "Simmons is looking for a treatment right now."

"Let's hope it was worth it." They shared a knowing look and she knew she didn't have to explain what she meant. If he was caught, all of their careers (and lives, really) were at stake.

A beat passed before they heard the sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs. FitzSimmons came barreling into the space, gasping for air. May _needed _to make sure they did more cardio.

"Sir," Simmons panted, frantically waving a packet of paper in front of her. "You need to see this."

"What? What is it, Simmons?"

"Look." She pointed at the page, and May saw Coulson's face go white. She quickly walked over and grabbed the paper from Simmons's hands, skimming it. Her breath caught in her throat as she read the words, uncomprehending. There, on the bottom of the page, in bold letters:

Project 537: T.A.H.I.T.I.


	6. Chapter 6

Jemma fought to keep her voice calm as she explained to Coulson for the third time why it wouldn't work.

"We can't just give her a random mixture of chemicals without accounting for proper dosage and ratios. The smallest discrepancy could kill her!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, that's what's going to happen anyway if we don't do something in the next eleven hours!" Jemma stood her ground, almost used to being on the receiving end of Coulson's anger and ridiculously high expectations.

"Sir," she replied calmly. "We don't even know how to create this serum. All the manual tells us is to 'See Extremis' and 'See Centipede' and 'For more detailed information, visit Base of Operations: London.' I can't develop something to help Skye with that! Not in the time frame we currently have." She was proud of herself; her voice hadn't wavered once, and she saw a hint of doubt in Coulson's expression, indicating that he was starting to hear what she was saying.

"What about Mike Peterson? Ward hit him with your Night-Night gun and that was able to stabilize the Extremis."

"Yes, but that was only because Mike already had the Extremis in his system and his body had accepted it. We have no idea what would happen if we gave Skye Extremis, let alone an Extremis-dendrotoxin cocktail!"

Coulson lifted his arms up in exasperation and let them fall at his sides. "Then what do _you_ suggest, Simmons? Because I'm all out of ideas." He sighed, visible signs of exhaustion etched on his face. "I need a great one."

She took a deep breath and summoned up her courage. "Sir, I think that I might be able to recreate the serum if I had a prototype."

Coulson looked at her uncomprehendingly. "Where would we find one of those?"

Jemma glanced down at her shoes. "Well…I suppose…I mean…" Coulson cleared his throat. She powered forward. "If the base of the T.A.H.I.T.I. project is in London, then I'm almost certain they've already developed test serums and have begun clinical trials there. And they probably have more detailed reports on proper dosages and chemical ratios. If I had a copy of the results of the trials, the chemical information, as well as a sample of the serum, I _might_ be able to calculate the dosages based on Skye's physiology and develop a serum specifically for her." Her voice began to falter. "Hypothetically, of course, but I suppose it's better than nothing." She quickly looked down again to force back the tears threatening to surface. She felt a hand on her arm, and looked up into Coulson's face. He had a small smile and a soft look in his eyes that she didn't quite understand at first. Without breaking his gaze away from her, he said, "May."

Agent May had been standing off to the side, quietly observing the scene before her and decidedly staying out of the conversation. "Yes?"

"Set a course for London. We leave as soon as possible."

May nodded, a smile playing on her lips as she headed towards the cockpit.

Coulson gave her arm a small squeeze and followed after May, leaving Jemma alone with her thoughts. As he walked away, she realized what look she had seen on his face just moments ago. She had seen that look once before, in the eyes of her father on the day she received an A* in all of her A-levels when she was 14.

It was pride.

* * *

He quickly checked through his rucksack again to make sure he had everything. Watch. Night-Night pistol. Torch. Pick-lock device. Water. The D.W.A.R.F.s. Duct tape (you never knew). He noticed a small bulge in one of the side pockets and curiously withdrew the antivenin pack Jemma had given him before his mission in Ossetia. He smiled a little to himself before placing the pack back where he found it. He wasn't going to take any chances.

After he was satisfied that he had everything he needed, he swung the rucksack onto his shoulder and headed towards the cargo hold. Adrenaline coursed through his veins despite his lack of sleep. He was ready for this. He was ready to finally do something. This was his chance to put right what he did wrong. Skye was dying because of his inability to protect her, and he would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to make sure she came out of this alive. At the very least, the action would help distract him from the more toxic thoughts he'd been avoiding for the past few hours.

When he entered the hold, he was surprised to find the rest of them already assembled. Ward and Coulson both had put bulletproof vests on, and May was busy finalizing their flight path on her tablet. He glanced over at Jemma, who was looking at him with a pained expression. He felt his stomach drop as he realized what was happening.

"Agent Fitz, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna need you to stay here."

Fitz could feel everyone looking at him, so he forced himself to keep his eyes locked on Coulson as he replied, in as calm of a voice as he could muster, "With all due respect, Agent Coulson, no. You need me out there."

Coulson looked as if he was trying very hard to remain patient. "No, what I _need_ is for someone to stay here and make sure nothing happens to Skye. I need May to drive the Bus, I need Ward to go in with me, and I need Simmons to both tell me what I'm looking for and to adjust the serum for Skye. That leaves you."

Fitz felt panic welling up in his chest. He knew he was going to lose, actually even agreed with Coulson a little bit, but he wasn't going down without a fight. "If you go without me, there's _no way_ you're going to get in and out of there without getting caught. You need me to monitor all the building's access points and make sure you avoid the security cameras."

"I'm not asking, Agent Fitz." Fitz fought to keep his expression impassive. "I'm sure we'll be able to handle security. We've got the blueprints you gave us and we'll have May and Simmons on the comms." Coulson softened his voice before continuing. "I'm sorry, Fitz, but I can't leave her here alone." Fitz could see a pain in Coulson's eyes that reflected a lot of what he was fighting to control at the moment. He hated it. He hated that Coulson was right. He hated that this was to be his contribution to saving Skye - endlessly waiting while someone else did the work.

He dreaded the hours that lay ahead, the hours where his only company would be his own consciousness. But he understood what he needed to do. Skye shouldn't be left alone, not when at any second she could –

No. It wasn't over yet. This wasn't what he had wanted, but he would accept his duty. For her.

"Yes, sir," he murmured, staring at the ground. He didn't want to look at anyone, knowing that he would see pity in all of their eyes. He was tired of being looked at like that. He could almost feel Jemma willing him to face her, but he actively avoided her gaze. He summoned up his courage and decided that he wasn't going to give a single one of them any more reason to feel sorry for him.

"Well, if you're going to leave the underappreciated genius here, I might as well walk you through the blueprints of the compound so you don't set off any alarms and, you know, ruin the whole operation."

* * *

"What am I looking at here?"

Fitz pointed at the diagram projected from the Holotable. "The London base is broken up into four sections." Each set of buildings glowed under his fingertips as he singled them out. "You've got the medical facility, operations, tech and communications, and the combat training facilities. Based on SciOps's records that I single-handedly obtained with a stroke of genius from Fury's computer, top-secret experiments are conducted in a series of warehouses by the river behind the operations building. Now, there's no mention of a T.A.H.I.T.I. project in the system's database, _but_ there are two warehouses that are currently listed as unused. One of these is under quarantine due to a nasty Gamma radiation experiment gone wrong. That's probably not your best bet. Which leaves…" Fitz paused dramatically, and swiped away the surrounding buildings with his hands, leaving one lone warehouse projected in front of their faces.

Ward was impressed. He might poke fun at Fitz sometimes, but truthfully it would have taken him much longer to come to the same conclusion. Not to mention figure out the zoom function on the Holotable.

Coulson glanced over at Ward and they shared an embarrassed look as Fitz continued to explain the best way to gain access to the building and the locations of all the security cameras, swiveling the projection around so they could clearly see all the entrances and superimposing an aerial shot over the blueprints for the warehouse. How did he make it look so easy?

Clearing his throat, Coulson gave a tight smile. "Thank you, Agent Fitz. That'll be all." Fitz looked slightly crestfallen, probably hoping that Coulson would change his mind about leaving him at the hospital after seeing him in action. Ward felt badly about the situation, but he agreed with Coulson. One of them had to stay. Fitz nodded and quietly slipped out of the room.

Once he was out of earshot, Coulson turned on Ward. "We don't breathe a _word_ to Fitz or Simmons about – " he paused, gesturing towards the Holotable.

"Agreed." Ward knew that if either of them ever found out, he and Coulson would be the butt of FitzSimmons's jokes for months. That could _not_ happen.

May entered the room, looking for all the world like she was prepared to kick ass. "We ready to go?" she asked, looking directly at Coulson. It was like Ward wasn't even there.

Coulson nodded, and May headed back towards the cockpit. "Wheels up in five," she called over her shoulder.

Ward pushed away the disappointment he felt at May's coldness and turned towards Coulson. "Uh…sir?"

"Yeah?"

"You do realize what we're about to do, right?" Ward had been so preoccupied with actually doing something that he had just started to process the fact that they were about to break into a facility operated by the very organization he worked for. Protocol was out the window.

Coulson's face was the poster of determination. "We have to get that cure. It's Skye's only chance."

There was something that continued to nag at him, though. "But you said the serum has the same stuff we saw with Mike Peterson and Chan Ho Yin." He voiced the thought that he knew was going through all of their heads. "You think S.H.I.E.L.D. has been working with Centipede?"

For the first time, he saw a hint of doubt in Coulson's eyes. "I don't know, Ward. We don't have the whole picture. But it's S.H.I.E.L.D. There are always secrets."

* * *

She ran to the cargo hold just as Fitz was about to leave the Bus.

"You aren't even going to say goodbye?" She meant to say it flippantly, but she couldn't keep her voice from cracking at the end. Fitz turned around and closed the distance between them, his face a mask of uncertainty. She hated seeing him like this. He looked so defeated.

She could see him attempt a smile as he replied, "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

She nodded, and they simply looked at each other for a few moments. There were times between them when some things didn't need to be said, and this was one of those times. She knew that staying was the last thing Fitz wanted to do and that it was killing him, but she couldn't come up with an alternative solution. She tried to find something light-hearted to say before they parted.

"Oh! I almost forgot. I grabbed this for you – I thought you might want something to pass the time." She held out his old Rubik's Cube, the one she had gotten him for his birthday years ago at the Academy. She had been shocked that he'd never tried to solve one before, and then annoyed when he had cracked it in 30 seconds. He still kept it around, though, and every so often he would bring it out and see if he could beat his time. She was secretly pleased that he hadn't thrown it out.

There was a flash of something in Fitz's eyes that reminded her of those days at the Academy, but it quickly disappeared. He managed to give her a small smile, though. "Thanks, Jemma."

She nodded, giving him an encouraging smile but not trusting her voice to say anything else. She turned around to head back upstairs.

"Jemma?"

"Yeah?"

He was still staring at the Rubik's Cube in his palm. "Can you promise me something?"

"What is it, Fitz?"

He looked up at her, and she was caught off-guard by the intensity of his gaze. "Whatever you do, don't go in that warehouse."

She was confused. "But it wasn't even part of the plan for me to actually go inside-"

He interrupted her. "Just don't go in. Promise me, Jemma."

Something in his voice made her silence the argument she had on her lips.

"I promise."

* * *

He caught her just as she was about to get settled into the cockpit.

"You all set?"

She was about to make a curt reply, but decided that she needed to try to convince him one more time.

"Phil, are you sure you don't want me to go in?"

Coulson shook his head. "I need you to stay with Simmons and guide us through the warehouse. After what happened earlier today, I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone during a mission, especially with Quinn on the Bus."

She placed a hand on his arm. "No. I mean are you sure you don't want me to go in _instead_?"

Coulson looked down at her with an expression so full of pain that she had to force herself not to break away from his gaze. "I need to do this, Melinda."

She nodded, understanding. "Okay," she said simply. "But you and Ward really shouldn't be going in there alone."

Coulson gave a smirk. "We won't be going in alone."

May shook her head, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"We're gonna need to make a pit stop."


	7. Chapter 7

He sped alongside the Thames, cursing the rain and the time left on the clock. Nine hours. They had nine hours before Skye would die. And that was their best-case scenario.

_"I feel like you and me? Wrong foot."_

He focused on the road in front of him, but without the noise of the punching bag being pummeled by his fists, her voice rang clear as a bell in his head.

_"It's my job as your S.O. to make sure you don't die."_

He'd done a fantastic job of that, hadn't he? He revved the engine.

_"Ward, if you need to get it out, I am here."_

_ "Right. To talk. Because that's what you do. Talk. And talk. Don't you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?"_

His jaw clenched together as he curved along the bank. How could he have said that to her? Sure, he'd been under the influence of the Berserker staff when he'd lashed out, but that didn't change what he'd said. He teased her mercilessly about her chattiness, but that was only because it was such a contrast from his own quiet nature. Truthfully he'd grown to like hearing her talk. Now it was becoming more and more likely that he would never hear her speak again. He sped faster.

_"Everyone here has earned this. They deserve it. I hacked my way in. Feels like I cheated."_

Is that why she had gone in after Quinn alone? What was she thinking? That she needed to prove herself to him? To the team? Didn't she know that she had already done that?

As he zipped past Parliament and Blackfriars Bridge, Ward tried to keep her voice out of his head by thinking about how much he hated England. It wasn't that he didn't like the sights (he did think they were a bit overrated) or that he hated the weather (it definitely didn't boost his opinion of the country, though). It was that he always had trouble blending in on missions. He inwardly winced at the memory of an assignment gone south at MI6, and scoffed at himself: fluent in six languages, but somehow incapable of adopting a convincing British accent.

Simmons could never find out.

He pulled up in front of the building with the address he had memorized earlier and parked the motorcycle. Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn't help but chuckle as he ducked in the doorway of a pub near the Tower of London, the sign outside reading "The Hung Drawn and Quartered." He _would_ choose a place like this to meet.

Ward made his way to the back of the pub, searching for the telltale hardened face of his supervising officer. The place was nearly empty at this hour. (He was surprised that there was even a pub still open.) His eyes scanned the room and landed on an older man sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. His posture gave him away. He held himself like a military man, sitting up tall, but there was almost a visible load on his shoulders weighing him down. Ward knew that it came from years of ops gone wrong and always being the one to volunteer for the suicide missions, not to mention supervising new espionage recruits at the London base. John Garrett was the epitome of everything S.H.I.E.L.D. needed in an agent: smart, calculating, able to think of clever solutions under extreme pressure. But he had always harbored some suspicions about what the organization was up to, and was one of the only people Ward knew who didn't approve of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s policy on intelligence compartmentalization. He hoped this request wouldn't be met with scorn. Despite Ward's insistence that he could complete the op alone, he begrudgingly had to admit that he would feel better with backup. Especially considering the target. He made his way towards the bar.

"Ah, so the prodigal son returns." Garrett greeted him without turning around. Ward smiled to himself and shook his head. He never knew how Garrett could hear him approach, but he had never been able to surprise him.

"Agent Garrett, sir, thank you for meeting me here." Garrett turned around on his stool and stood up to give Ward a warm handshake. "I, uh, like the rendezvous choice. It's…"

Garrett gave a hearty laugh. "It's a bit creepy, isn't it?"

Chuckling, Ward said, "Yeah, just a bit." Garrett motioned to the stool next to his, inviting Ward to sit down.

He must have understood that time was of the essence, because he got right to the point. "Now, from what Coulson told me, you guys need some help with a top-secret mission?"

"Yup." Ward smirked. "Just your style, too. Off the books. Unorthodox. A clean get-in-and-get-out."

Garrett smiled appreciatively but lowered his voice when he responded. "Son, you know what you're getting into, right? This isn't just some kiddy mission. You're going up against Big Brother here. I don't think I have to tell you what happens if you fail."

Ward looked down at the counter, running his fingers in the well-worn grooves. "I know, sir," he responded. "But this is important. If S.H.I.E.L.D. is hiding something that could potentially help save one of our own, it's my responsibility to do everything I can to find it."

Garrett looked at him with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Is that really you, Ward? What ever happened to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s loyal golden boy? Don't tell me Coulson's turned you into a cynic. I can hardly believe he's on board with this either."

Ward was surprised. His fierce dedication to the Division had been a heated discussion topic between him and his S.O. for years. "You've always been cynical of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s motives."

"'Cynicism is no more mature than naïveté.'" Garrett took another sip of his whiskey.

Ward nodded, recognizing the quote. "'You're no more mature, just more burned.' Matterhorn."

Garrett smiled over at him. "So you finally did get around to reading it, huh?" He chuckled. "So what's burned you, Grant?" He said it with humor, but Ward detected a hint of bitterness in his tone.

He tried to give him a nonchalant look in response, but Ward had a feeling Garrett could see through his cavalier front. He took a deep breath before venturing into some of the ideas that had been growing in the back of his mind for the past few months. "Recent events have…shown me that sometimes S.H.I.E.L.D. is not always right in its decisions to keep things from the rest of us. One of our agents is dying, and if S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't going to save her, then we have to find a way to do it ourselves." He looked up to see a curious expression on Garrett's face. It was almost as if he was trying to catch a glimpse of the old Ward, the one who would have died for a mission he didn't know everything about.

"Is this girl really that important, Ward?"

Ward didn't even hesitate. "Yes." He was taken aback by his own conviction, but didn't retract his response. Garrett seemed just as surprised as Ward felt, but hid his shock by finishing off his drink. With a loud clink, he set the glass down on the counter.

"When do we start?"

* * *

"Okay, the guards switch out at the top of the hour." Garrett's voice came in clearly over the Bus's comm system. "When that happens, we'll have about 20 seconds to get around to the south side where we'll be hidden from any of the compound cameras. But we're gonna have to get pretty close to the river to avoid being seen."

Jemma was on the edge of her seat, feeling severely outside of her comfort zone. She and May were monitoring the live security feeds in the Bus's main debriefing room, using a hacking program of Skye's that Fitz had shown them. They had managed to figure out how to run the program, but Jemma wished that Fitz had come along to make sure everything ran smoothly. He was much better than she was at operating the team's technology. After all, he _was_ the engineering half of their duo. It was in times like these that she realized how much better they worked when they were together. Without him there, she felt exposed, unprepared for the mission that lay ahead. She was suddenly plagued with doubt, fearing that she would be unable to adjust the serum for Skye without his input. Jemma quickly pushed her uncertainty away and focused on the task at hand. Skye needed her to do everything she could to keep her alive, and dwelling on Fitz's absence would only be a distraction. But she couldn't keep her heart from continuing to ache with worry as she wondered how he was doing back at the hospital.

She heard what sounded like boots trudging through water as Ward, Coulson, and Garrett made their way to the river to await the guard change.

Coulson's bemused voice came through the speaker. "Too bad I didn't bring my scuba gear."

Garrett chuckled. "Oh, Coulson, I've missed you."

Jemma had initially been skeptical about bringing another agent into the operation, especially considering how little time they had left to get a cure back to Skye. But when she had heard that they were picking up John Garrett, a living legend in S.H.I.E.L.D. for his espionage exploits, she had to admit that she felt a little more confident in their mission. She hadn't said anything to either of them, but she really hadn't liked the idea of Ward and Coulson going into a potential hostile situation by themselves.

"Okay, guys, let's focus." Ward was never one to mess around. "Simmons, where are the other cameras?"

She was about to answer when May spoke up. "We've got a security loop set to go on the hour, but S.H.I.E.L.D. will probably be able to detect us and trace the hack before long. Let's just say you've got 10 minutes to get in, find what you need, and get out."

"Got it," said Coulson. "Simmons, is there a sign of anyone in the warehouse?"

Jemma inspected the live diagram of the warehouse in front of her, showing any signs of raised heat signatures in the building. She noticed two areas of elevated heat towards the left of the map. "Most of the main floor space is empty, but there appears to be two guards in the west hallway near the main entrance, so you'll probably want to avoid that."

"Roger that," Coulson replied.

Jemma glanced at her watch. They had 15 minutes before the guard change. Now all they could do was wait. The minutes crawled by at an agonizing pace. She really hated relativity sometimes.

At one point, she had somehow thought it would be a good idea to strike up a conversation with the person sitting next to her.

"_So_…", she had begun, and was quickly shot down by an annoyed side-glance.

"All right, then," she had said by way of apology, looking down at her hands and blushing furiously. She knew that the Cavalry was closed off to most, but that didn't mean that Jemma still didn't want May to like her. The following silence was even worse than it had been before, now that awkwardness had been added to the mix. She drummed her fingers on her knees, feeling more antsy than she was normally inclined. She was ready for this all to be over.

Jemma was exceedingly grateful when Coulson's voice finally rang over the intercom, breaking the tension. "One minute to go. Ward, after we get through the second checkpoint, you head on up to the balcony and keep watch. Scope out the place. If anyone comes into the main space, hit 'em with the Night-Night gun. This is a clean op. No casualties if we can help it." Ward must have nodded in agreement, because there was a slight pause before Coulson sighed audibly.

"All right, we're going in."

Jemma held her breath as she waited for the team to reach the south entrance.

"Okay, we've made it through the first checkpoint."

She made sure to keep her voice at a normal pace as she responded, "All right, now there should be a door leading into the main area. The cameras are only monitoring the entrances, so I can't exactly tell you where it is. Do you see anything, sir?"

There was silence.

"Sir?"

"Simmons, I found the door. But I don't think you're going to like this."

"What do you mean, sir?"

There was another pause as she figured he was weighing the decision of whether or not to tell her.

"Sir!" she exclaimed impatiently.

"It says 'Biohazard Containment.'"

She could have sworn her heart stopped. No. They were _not_ equipped for this.

"Sir, you need to get out of there right now."

"Simmons, it's too late for that. We need to get that serum."

"But, sir," she cried hysterically, no longer in control of her voice. "You can't just waltz in there without proper protection. You have no idea what kind of chemicals or – God! What if there's some kind of radiation in there? You _need_ to get out."

She frantically looked over at May, hoping for some kind of support. May appeared calm, but there was a hint of deep-seated fear that flashed through her eyes. "Agent Coulson, Simmons is right. We don't know what's behind those doors, and if something happens to you, we won't be able to help Skye."

"Won't be able to help her if we _don't_ go in either," Coulson responded. "I'm taking my chances. It looks fine. There's nothing glowing or anything."

Jemma bit back a scream. Did he seriously think that just because nothing was _glowing_ that there wasn't any danger? If they got out of this alive, she was going to give the _entire_ team a very important presentation on biochemical safety.

The next few moments were completely still. Neither she nor May took a breath as they listened to Coulson opening the door. His voice rang over the comms. "Everything looks fine. You can breathe now." She knew that Coulson was trying to reassure her and make sure she focused on the mission, but she was still very upset with him at the moment.

Ward must have headed up to the balcony and looked around briefly. "Nothing up here. I'll keep watch."

Jemma pushed away her annoyance at Coulson's stupidity and decided she would do everything she could to get them out of there. "What do you see, sir?"

"It looks like there's some kind of lab down here in the main space. This must be where they've been running the trials."

"Coulson, you're gonna want to take a look at this." Garrett sounded wary.

She heard Coulson breathe in sharply. "You seeing this, Ward?"

"Holy…"

Simmons hated not being able to see what was happening. "What? What is it? What's going on?"

"The whole place is rigged to blow." Garrett's voice felt like a knife in Jemma's heart. This wasn't happening. Why had she suggested they come to London? All she had wanted to do was find a way to save Skye, and now she had endangered the lives of three other people. She fought down the panic as she listened to the team's following exchanges.

"Both of you, get out now." Despite her terror, Jemma was glad that Coulson at least had the sense to try to make sure some of them made it out alive.

Ward wasn't having it. "Not happening, sir."

Garrett backed him up. "We've come this far, we can't back out now. Remember, Coulson, this is what I do." There was a brief pause as she imagined Coulson was assessing his options. She knew that Garrett specialized in bomb disposal, but she just wanted all of them to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Okay," Coulson responded. Jemma's stomach dropped and she placed her hands on her face to stop them from shaking. "Garrett, I need you to clear out the west hallway and we'll rendezvous back at the south entrance. See if you can find out where this is all rigged up to. Ward, go back to the Bus."

"I'm not leaving, Coulson. You need me here. Let's just get the serum, get the information, and get out."

Coulson continued to speak in a whisper so as not to alert the guards to their presence, but Jemma thought that if anyone could yell in a whisper, it was Coulson. "Ward, that's an order!" He calmed his voice before continuing. "You are as much a part of this team as Skye is. I'm not going to have you risking your life for something that might not even save her. If what you suspect is true, and S.H.I.E.L.D. really has been working with Centipede, then this is a lot bigger than either of us. The whole future of S.H.I.E.L.D. is at stake. Hell, I'm not even sure the world is going to be able to handle whatever this is, but what I do know is that we're going to need the good guys to be ready to do whatever it takes to protect it. That's you."

Jemma felt tears well up in her eyes as the severity of the situation hit her. Was this really that big? How could she have become involved in something that had escalated to produce such catastrophic consequences so quickly? She could almost see Ward fighting the urge to argue.

"Don't let your emotions get in the way, Ward. Listen to Coulson." Jemma looked over at May in surprise. She rarely intervened in such situations. There was another pause.

"Fine," Ward replied tightly. Jemma heaved a sigh of relief. At least _he_ would be okay.

Garrett's voice interrupted them. "Hey, guys, I think I found the source of the problem. Coulson, you want me to see if I can defuse it?"

"Sure, but be smart about it. We want to make sure we don't accidentally arm this thing ourselves."

"Copy that."

"All right, I'm in the lab. Simmons, what am I looking for?"

She took a deep breath and made sure her voice remained steady. She just needed to power through the next few minutes. "Okay, keep an eye out for a manual of some sort. There are no reports in the database of the results of the T.A.H.I.T.I. trials, which means they've probably been keeping the records by hand to prevent any of the information from being leaked. So you're most likely looking for some kind of paper filing system."

"I see some shelves. There's a binder here marked 537. That's the number T.A.H.I.T.I. was recorded under in Fury's files."

"Check that first. Look for a record of subject names, lists of chemicals administered, results of experimental success, anything like that."

"It's all here, Simmons. You want the whole thing?"

She could hardly believe their luck. "Yes, please."

"All right. What else?"

"Um…do you see any evidence of the serums themselves? Some glass vials or test tubes, perhaps?"

Coulson laughed humorlessly. "This place is filled with them, Simmons. Could you be more specific?"

She racked her brain for something useful. "Do any of the vials stand out to you? Is there a specially marked case or something?"

He gave a low whistle. "Yeah, I think I found it. There's only one glass door in this place that's got a lock on it. There's a rack of…three test tubes behind it."

"That has to be it. Do you think you can disable the lock?"

"It's got a passcode on it. I think I only have one shot, Simmons."

Jemma panicked. She didn't know anything about passcodes or disabling locks, especially locks that were potentially connected to explosives that could detonate at the slightest provocation. She searched her memory for anything Skye might have said in the past few months that could help and nearly groaned in frustration. Why wasn't Fitz there? Surely he would have been able to come up with a solution.

The next thing she knew, there was the sound of static coming through the speakers.

"Sir? Sir, are you there?" Jemma fought to keep her voice at a normal pitch.

"Agent Coulson?" Even May sounded a little panicked.

"Ward? Agent Garrett? Can anyone hear us?"

"Comms are down," May declared. This was not happening. This was not happening. This was not happening.

"What – what do we do?" Jemma was barely containing her hysteria.

"Let's just wait here for a few minutes and see if they come out."

The following minutes were the slowest minutes of Jemma's life. She kept trying to find the team's heat signatures on the warehouse diagram, but whatever knocked out the comms must have also disabled their heat detection device. After five minutes had passed, May stood up and headed toward the plane's exit. "I'm going in."

"Agent May, no, you can't-"

But Jemma's voice was silenced by the sound of explosions piercing the night.


	8. Chapter 8

FIVE MINUTES EARLIER…

"It's got a passcode on it. I think I only have one shot, Simmons." He looked around the glass enclosure for something that might help him gain access to the serums inside, but he soon realized that the only way anyone could get behind the door was by entering the passcode. Which was connected to explosives.

A beat passed before he noticed he hadn't heard a response from the Bus.

"Simmons?"

The following silence made Coulson's blood run cold. Something wasn't right.

"Garrett? Ward? Does anyone copy?" Nothing.

"Damn." Something must have scrambled with their comms, which meant that someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. had been alerted to their presence. He was just about to take his chances with the glass and hope that Garrett had disabled the bombs when he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

"Coulson, Coulson. You always were so predictable."

Coulson clenched his jaw together and made sure to keep his expression impassive as he turned around to face Director Fury. Fury was looking at him with a mixture of anger and disappointment, and Coulson noticed him slip a small object into his pocket that looked a lot like the localized EMP devices Fitz was so obsessed with. So that's what had taken out their comms.

"What's going on here, Fury?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Last time I checked, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents don't make a habit of breaking into their own facilities to steal serums they know nothing about, in order to _possibly_ save a girl they also know nothing about."

Coulson fought to control his rage. "Skye might have a past, sir, but she's a part of this team. _My_ team. And she sure as hell doesn't deserve to die. Not when S.H.I.E.L.D. can do something about it."

Fury lost his composure. "But you don't even know what _this_ _is_!" he shouted, gesturing towards the glass case.

"Why don't you explain it to me, _sir_?" Coulson made sure to put as much venom as possible into his last word, knowing that it would further infuriate Fury. "After all, who was it that was forced to go to T.A.H.I.T.I. against his will and then lied to about it? Oh, right. That was me." Coulson didn't know where any of this was coming from, but once he had begun voicing his fears, he couldn't stop. He realized that as soon as he had seen the word on the bottom of the page in Fury's manual, he had begun embarking down a path that led him right here, to this very warehouse, in order to find out what had happened to him after the Battle of New York. "I've spent the past few months terrified, unable to sleep, thinking that something was wrong with me, all because _you insisted_ that I be brought back. Not only brought back, but have my memories changed too. And then, on top of that, one of my agents is shot, and S.H.I.E.L.D. refuses to help her? When they obviously have been working in the same capacity as organizations like Centipede on a serum that specifically helps heal damaged tissue? You have to at least see how it looks from over here, sir. You have given me _very_ little to work with." His voice had started to waver. "Yeah. Sure. I don't know what _this_ is, but I do know that it's the only thing I can think of to help save Skye. If you have any other ideas, I'm all ears."

He breathed out slowly, focusing on keeping his muscles taut. He couldn't start shaking now. He needed answers. Fury's expression had gone from anger at Coulson's disrespect to fear of what he had already discovered about his past. His appearance had relaxed toward the end of Coulson's tirade, and his eye now reflected both exhaustion and pity. Fury glanced down at the ground and ran a hand over his face, visibly defeated.

"What do you want to know?"

Coulson froze. Was Fury really going to answer the questions that had been haunting him for so long? He fumbled over the ideas in his head, trying to decide what he should ask first. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that he should be focusing on figuring out how to save Skye, but the first thing that came out of his mouth was:

"Why me?"

Fury looked up at him in surprise, but sighed when he saw the distress on Coulson's face. "Look, Coulson, I know how this might not make much sense given the circumstances, but the T.A.H.I.T.I. project actually has very little to do with you."

Coulson was confused. "What are you talking about? Obviously it has to do with me. I was there!"

Fury appeared as if he was trying very hard to explain everything patiently. "What happened to you, Coulson, was the beginning of trials for Phase One of T.A.H.I.T.I. You were our first test subject."

"Test subject for what?"

Fury eyed him warily.

"_Test subject for_ _what_?"

"Memory alteration." Coulson didn't know what he had been expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.

"I already know you altered my memories. Dr. Streiten told me."

"Then you probably know that this is one of the most revolutionary concepts the world has ever seen." Fury could hardly hide his incredulity. "The ability to alter memories? To be able to go into someone's head and change what's there? That isn't mind-blowing to you?"

"I've been stabbed through the heart by an alien god, sir. Not a lot surprises me anymore." Coulson didn't have time to go over things he already knew. "You said the memory alteration was Phase One. What's Phase Two?"

Fury shook his head, looking irritated with Coulson's indifference. "You weren't involved with Phase Two. We just wanted to see if we could give you a new memory after we revived you. And _it worked_. You were in a lot of pain, Coulson. Those memories would have haunted you for the rest of your life."

"So you thought keeping the truth from me would solve that problem?" Fury was about to retaliate, but Coulson decided that they were wasting time. "You know what? Never mind. What's Phase Two? It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been working with Centipede to develop Extremis, would it?"

"Not with," Fury replied. "Against."

Coulson was more baffled than ever. "Then why all this secrecy? What could possibly be so compromising about combating Centipede? Isn't that what we've been trying to do all along?"

Fury looked like he was choosing his words very carefully. "The T.A.H.I.T.I. project has been heavily classified due to the…nature of the subjects undergoing treatment."

"Enough with the vague allusions, Director." Fury glared at him. Despite his newfound assertiveness, Coulson chastised himself. He was finally getting answers to the mysteries that had been surrounding him and his team for so long, and Fury could change his mind about talking to him at any second.

"We're not alone in this universe, Coulson."

"I think we all know that now, sir. You know, with the giant portal opening over New York City spouting out alien mercenaries and all."

"No," Fury shook his head. "I mean…we haven't been alone for a while."

Coulson felt a chill run up his spine. "What does that even mean?"

"It _means_," Fury replied with affected patience, "that people the likes of Thor and Loki and the Chitauri and God knows what else have been coming to Earth for _centuries_, hiding amongst us, in plain sight. Sometimes they just come to check things out. Sometimes they decide to stay for a while, like your Spanish friend Professor Randolph. And _sometimes_," he paused. "They get…involved."

"Involved…how?" Coulson had a feeling he already knew the answer, but needed to hear Fury say it himself.

Fury looked uncomfortable. "There's more than one Index in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s system, Coulson."

"You mean…it's happened already? There are-"

"Hybrids, yes."

Knowing it was coming did not minimize the shock Coulson felt reverberate through his body. He felt like he was going to puke. "And…Skye is-?" He couldn't even finish the thought, too horrified by its implications.

"We're not sure," Fury replied. "She's been on T.A.H.I.T.I.'s radar for quite a while now, but with her habit of leaking classified information online, we didn't want to risk bringing her in for treatment and have her potentially compromise the project."

Coulson was stunned. "Treatment? What kind of treatment?"

"Treatment Against Hostile Invasion and Terrestrial Integration. Or as we like to call it, T.A.H.I.T.I."

In spite of himself, Coulson couldn't help but scoff, hearing Skye's derisive snort in his head. "Seriously? What kind of name is that?"

Fury shook his head. "I don't know, man. I just kinda roll with it at this point. But someone obviously wanted it to spell out Tahiti."

Coulson tried very hard to maintain his surly frown. "And there are…others? Others who have undergone this treatment?"

Fury nodded. "T.A.H.I.T.I.'s been pretty successful so far. You'd be impressed, Coulson. These kids – you wouldn't have any idea they weren't completely normal. They don't show any bizarre abilities, they don't go around swinging hammers and causing mass destruction. They can bleed, they can get hurt. They're not invincible. But because of something in their genes, their blood is resistant to normal human antibiotics."

Coulson still couldn't wrap his head around it, but a warning bell sounded off in his head at the mention of antibiotic resistance. "But…wouldn't people have figured out something was wrong with them? Kid gets sick, they go to the doctor, nothing makes them better?"

"That's the thing. These kids _don't get sick_. They're immune to antibiotics, but they're also immune to viruses…or at least any found on this planet."

Coulson searched his memory of the past few months, trying to remember if Skye had shown any signs of sickness. There was that one week on the Bus when everyone had gotten the flu. Skye had been the only one unaffected and had turned into the mother hen, constantly taking temperatures and making soup, ensuring that they were all taken care of. When asked if she was bothered by it, she had said, "Oh, I'm always the one taking care of the sick people. Probably because I, like, never get sick. So don't worry. You guys can't hurt me." She had aimed that last comment at Ward, who had been trying to cough on her the whole day, determined that she catch whatever had debilitated them all. Coulson had thought she'd been exaggerating about her immune system, but now he wasn't so sure.

"What does any of this have to do with Extremis?"

Fury hesitated. "The Extremis…it doesn't have the same effect on these…subjects…as we've seen so far."

Coulson fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Obviously, sir. What effect does it have?"

He saw a glint of something in Fury's eye that was slightly unsettling. "They heal. Fast."

Coulson was getting fed up with this conversation. "Yes, sir, I realize this. That's what Extremis does-"

"No. They heal faster than fast. The Extremis somehow activates something in their genes, effectively tripling their cells' reproductive process. _And_," he paused for effect. "There's no heat signature. No heat, no bodies exploding all over the place."

"That's it? You're taking these half…humans and giving them healing powers?"

"Not just healing. We actually ran into a rut for a long time trying to figure out how to maximize their abilities, but it wasn't until your team used the NNP-45 on Mike Peterson that we started to play around with the dendrotoxin."

Coulson was confused. "NNP? What the heck is that?"

Fury looked puzzled as well. "The Neural Neutralizing Pistol. You know, the gun FitzSimmons developed as a non-lethal alternative? They uploaded the specs to HQ months ago."

Neural Neutralizing Pistol? NNP?

Surely he didn't mean-

"You mean the _Night-Night Pistol_?" Coulson asked incredulously.

The look on Fury's face was a mixture of bewilderment and tried patience. "Yeah, we're not calling it that."

Coulson shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track. "So…what does the dendrotoxin do?"

Fury smiled, but it didn't shake the unsettling feeling Coulson had in the pit of his stomach. "The same thing Extremis does to normal people. Except bigger. These guys are stronger, faster, and more powerful than anything we've ever seen Extremis do so far."

Something clicked inside Coulson's head.

Treatment Against Hostile Invasion.

"You're building an army."

Fury was silent, but Coulson didn't need him to confirm it. He knew.

"So how come we haven't seen these guys flying around? A bunch of super-powered human-alien hybrids would be kinda hard to miss."

Fury looked uncomfortable again. He hesitated before saying, "That's where you came in, Coulson. Due to the success of your memory alteration, we've been able to do the same thing to these subjects. They come in, are given the Extremis, the dendrotoxin, and a tracker that both lets us know where they are and represses their abilities until we need them. Then we give them a nice little memory of Tahiti or wherever else we choose and send them on their way. Most of them are living normal lives right now, completely unaware of their hidden abilities."

Another warning bell went off in Coulson's head. "Why do you need to erase their memories?"

"The effects of the dendrotoxin are not exactly a painless process. And…" Fury hesitated.

"_And_?"

"They're not exactly…volunteers."

There it was.

Before Coulson could go off on another rant, he noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He decided to keep Fury talking, and tried to keep his voice from trembling too much with rage.

"Using unwilling participants? Is that really what S.H.I.E.L.D. has become?"

Fury lost his patience. "_You were there_! In New York, Coulson. You personally saw the threats we're now up against, and actually _died_ because of them. The world has effectively been turned upside down. We can't always expect that the Avengers will be able to swoop in and save the day. We need more options. Now we've got this Clairvoyant on our hands building an army, and we need to be able to face it. The only way we can do that is if we level the playing field."

"And you're just expecting these subjects to follow your orders blindly?"

Fury shook his head. "That's why we need Skye. Her influence over the Rising Tide has shown us that she's exactly the kind of leader we need. She's been able to bring people together under a common cause in ways that we could never do on our own."

Coulson scoffed. "Skye would never go for that. Ever." As soon as he said it, the warning bell in his head rang at full blast.

"You've given it to her already, haven't you?"

Fury placed his hands on his waist. "I told you, Coulson, to trust the system." Coulson felt his hands ball up into fists and shoved them into his pockets. His right hand brushed up against a small object, and he carefully enclosed it in his palm as Fury continued. "We weren't sure about Skye's past, but her response to the antibiotics proved what we had already suspected. I sent a team over there to administer the serum right after you _hacked into my computer_."

At Coulson's surprised expression, Fury gave him a skeptical look. "Oh, please. Did you really think I wasn't going to notice? And you came right here. Like I said, Coulson, you're very predictable."

Coulson made sure his voice remained calm. "How long until they give her the dendrotoxin?"

Fury inspected his watch. "You should be thanking me, Coulson. I'm saving her life. If we were right about her heritage, and her body has accepted the Extremis, they should be administering the dendrotoxin…right about now, actually."

Coulson knew that the next few moments were crucial. He removed his right hand from his pocket, the pick-lock device glowing in his hand. When Fury's eyes widened, Coulson shouted:

"Now, Ward!"

Fury's body crumpled to the ground as he was hit from behind, the surprised expression frozen on his face.

* * *

Ward had done some pretty daring things in his time as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but knocking out the Director with the Night-Night gun took the cake.

Of course he hadn't left when Coulson had ordered him to. He had instead rounded a corner up on the balcony, where he had watched the scene below him unfold. He hadn't been able to hear the exchange between Fury and Coulson, but the looks on their faces told him that it wasn't a very friendly conversation.

After the shot, there had been the sound of shattering glass as Coulson had used a device to explode the door. He had grabbed the rack of vials and the binder sitting on the table behind him, shouting up at Ward, "Grab the Director. We need to get out of here. We don't know if Garrett was able to defuse the bombs."

Fear for his S.O.'s safety made Ward reply, "Shouldn't we go find him?"

Coulson was kneeling next to Fury, looking for a pulse. "Not enough time. Garrett can handle himself. He probably knows we've at least set the timer off. I'll grab the stuff, you get Fury. Let's go."

They were now jogging at an uncomfortable pace behind the warehouse, putting as much distance between it and them as possible. Ward was a strong guy, but the weight of the Director on his shoulders made his breath come out in short puffs.

"Damn it, Coulson, you couldn't have waited until _after_ we cleared the building to have me knock out the Director?"

"Didn't have a lot of options, Ward. He wasn't going to let me just walk out of there. And we need to get back to Skye. ASAP." Ward noticed a fear in Coulson's eyes that sent panic through his body.

"What are we going to do about him?" Ward said, gesturing to the 6'2" man atop his shoulders.

Coulson smirked. "Oh, he'll be fine. We'll drop him off at a nice little spot on the French Riviera."

That's when the night exploded.

* * *

This time, she knew her heart stopped.

"No," she breathed.

The sound of the blasts still pounded in her ears, drowning out all of her thoughts and turning the world around her into a blur of color. Time slowed down. If she hadn't been sitting, she would have fallen to the ground. She was vaguely aware of May saying something to her and heading towards the cargo hold. She somehow found herself following her down the stairs, despite having no control over her own body. She was coaxed back into reality when May placed her hands on her arms and forced her to look her in the eyes.

"Simmons, look at me. I need you to _stay here_, okay? Do not open the cargo door for _anyone_."

Jemma felt herself nodding when she heard the sound of the cargo door being opened. May spun around abruptly as a very strange spectacle entered the plane. Jemma nearly collapsed with relief as she saw Coulson run up the gangway, followed closely behind by Ward, who was carrying something over his shoulders. Not something. Someone. Was that…_Director Fury_?

Coulson wasted no time closing the cargo door. "Time to go," he ordered.

May exchanged a concerned look with Coulson before heading up to the cockpit. Jemma had grabbed a blanket from the lab and was about to tell Ward to set the Director down when she remembered.

"Where's Agent Garrett?"

Ward avoided her eyes, so she turned to Coulson, who had a pained expression on his face. "He was trying to dismantle the bombs when we were in the warehouse. He didn't make it."

Jemma felt her heart ache, not so much for the man she barely knew, but for Coulson and Ward. Poor Ward. She knew he had been close to his supervising officer.

There was a heavy moment of silence before they felt the plane's engine start up.

"Better get strapped in," Coulson advised.

Just then, they heard the sound of a loud pounding on the Bus's cargo door. Ward pressed a button on the control panel and headed towards the opening.

"Don't, Ward!" Coulson shouted, but the door had already lowered. They could feel the plane start to ascend, and Jemma grabbed on to the wall to balance herself. Ward struggled as he lifted Garrett up onto the platform, and she quickly stumbled over to close the hold. They all held on to the nearest fixed object as the plane continued to rise. Garrett shouted over the noise, "Trying to get rid of me already? I just got here!" No one laughed.

Jemma looked over at Coulson, who had one hand on Fury's arm and the other on the lab door. She noticed he had placed a large binder and a small rack of capped vials on the ground next to him.

"Simmons," he gasped, gesturing towards Fury. Jemma inched her way over to the Director, firmly placing her hand on his arm to keep him from sliding. Coulson released his grip on Fury and whipped out his phone with his free hand. The next words she heard made her stomach drop in a way that was very distinct from the effects of the changing altitude.

"Agent Fitz, we're on our way. Do whatever you have to do, but _don't let anyone touch Skye_."


	9. Chapter 9

His fingers flew around the Cube practically of their own accord: methodical, precise, concrete. As the hours slowly dragged on in that nauseating waiting room, it soon became the only thing tethering him to reality.

He had started off his watch pacing the small room, ignored completely by the same bored-looking receptionist that had been there earlier, but soon gave up that method of vigilance. He wasn't Ward. Pacing and brooding were not able to keep the poison out of his mind. He needed to be working on something with his hands, something real, something he could fix. Thank God Jemma had thought to give him his old Rubik's Cube. He probably would've ended up disassembling the chairs or something before long.

Jemma. He wondered how she was doing. Had they reached London yet? Had they been able to infiltrate the warehouse and steal the serum? Was she developing a serum for Skye right at this moment? She had been the absolute picture of calm strength when he had left, but he knew she was pushing down the same fear he was. The fear that despite all of her abilities and all of her training and all of her hopes, Skye might not make it.

He shook his head and glanced at his watch. 42 seconds? He could do better than that. He closed his eyes and shuffled the Cube again.

At least Jemma was _doing_ something. All he had been doing for the past three hours was sit around, useless, while everyone else on the team raced against the clock to save Skye. Fixing _his_ problem. They wouldn't even have been in this mess if he had just convinced her to stay back and wait for the team to go after Quinn. _Why_ had he let her go? The answer was simple, really. He was a coward. A bloody coward.

34.7 seconds. He shuffled it again.

And it wasn't just this mission. Ever since Jemma had dragged him into this freak show, he had felt out of place on the team. The only times he had ever been able to contribute to their operations were through his gadgets, and even then it had been Ward's sheer strength or May's ninja skills or Coulson's quick thinking or Skye's intuition or Jemma's brilliance that had saved the day. His gadgets were cool, but ultimately useless.

29.8 seconds.

He had followed Jemma, of course. They were FitzSimmons: working apart from each other didn't make sense. He knew she had always wanted to see the world. At the Academy, she had placed a map above her desk, tacking pictures and marking all of the destinations she wanted to visit. He had smiled and nodded absentmindedly as she had spouted out fact after fact about all of the places they would be able to travel to if they joined the team. He had gone along with it (begrudgingly, of course), hoping that after a month or two she would be satisfied and want to head back to SciOps, or maybe even the Sandbox if they were lucky, and live out a quiet life with him in the safety of their lab.

But she had thrived on the team, much to his surprise. It wasn't that he didn't think Jemma was capable of achieving great things. That was a given. It was more that she had begun to thrive in ways that he himself was unable to. She had grown outside of her comfort zone, while he had retreated further into his.

What was he even doing there?

26.4 seconds.

There had been a couple of times in the past few months when he had felt like he was finally starting to make a real contribution to the team, but any false sense of helpfulness had evaporated when he had seen Skye's unmoving body in the basement of Quinn's house.

25.3 seconds.

He had let her go in alone. _Alone_. While he had hid with his gadgets under the car, thinking that he was actually being useful. How useful were those disabled cars when the bullets had pierced her body?

22.5 seconds.

And here he was again, hiding, while she lay dying only a handful of yards away from him. Only this time, he didn't have his inventions to cower behind, pretending to be a part of the solution. He had only himself, tossed aside because his assets weren't valuable enough for Coulson and the team to use. Because when it really came down to it, he wasn't useful at all.

20.7 seconds.

And that was his worst fear, wasn't it? Being useless.

So.

Bloody.

Useless.

He threw the Rubik's Cube across the room, causing the receptionist to look up momentarily before going back to inspecting her nails.

Breathing heavily, he placed his head in his hands, trying to keep from trembling. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw her face, the blue tendrils freezing her in time, her eyes open, unseeing.

Maybe not his _worst_ fear.

Thankfully his train of thought was interrupted with Coulson's call. "Agent Fitz, we're on our way. Do whatever you have to do, but _don't let anyone touch Skye_."

This was it. This was to be the moment that decided whether or not he belonged there, whether or not he deserved to be on the team. This was his chance to make sure Skye didn't die because of his mistake. He couldn't freeze up now.

He stood up quickly and slapped his face a few times, clenching and unclenching his fists to keep from shaking. He slowly withdrew his Night-Night pistol and began walking down the hallway toward the door marked "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY."

He met no resistance in the first few hallways, and silently thanked his lucky stars. He really didn't want to shoot anyone if he didn't have to. He made sure to keep his back up against the wall as he rounded the corners, mostly for safety but also because it made him feel a little like James Bond. James Bond wasn't useless. And he was cool.

The hallways all seemed to be going in the same direction, so Fitz kept the Night-Night gun raised as he made his way along, figuring that the closer he got to Skye, the more he was probably going to need it.

His instincts were correct. As he rounded the fourth corner, he came upon two orderlies talking next to a heavy metal door. One of the orderlies was holding it open, about to walk through, when they noticed Fitz entering the hallway.

"Hey!" one of them shouted. "You can't be in-"

His protest was cut short by the sound of the dendrotoxin hitting his chest. The other orderly soon joined his colleague on the ground, and Fitz sprinted to catch the door right before it closed. He looked back at the bodies he had paralyzed, eyes widened in shock. Did he really just do that? He told himself that it had been necessary and closed the door behind him.

He was now in what appeared to be some sort of metal hallway. There was a row of glass operating rooms that looked like they were used to quarantine patients at risk of spreading airborne diseases. Most of them were empty, but as he made his way along the row, he noticed a group of people assembled in one near the end of the hallway.

The next few things happened very quickly.

The first thing he noticed was Skye's face, unconscious as she lay in the hospital bed. The doctor in charge of her surgery was standing off to the side, arms folded, a concerned look on her face. Two men in suits were on Skye's opposite side, one of them holding a syringe in his hand, filled with blue liquid.

With a burst of adrenaline, Fitz ran to open the door to the room, startling all of its (conscious) occupants. He raised the Night-Night pistol and pointed it at the agent holding the syringe.

"All right, um, all of you need to get out now." He cursed his voice, which had cracked from both disuse and nerves. The agents just looked at each other with amusement, and Agent Syringe gestured to someone behind Fitz.

"Apprehend this man, please."

Fitz heard footsteps approaching behind him, and without turning around, he aimed the Night-Night gun over his shoulder and fired twice. He heard the sound of two bodies hitting the ground, and with a steady hand turned the pistol back on Syringe.

"I said…" Fitz's voice wasn't wavering anymore. "Get out. Now."

He saw flashes of fear in their eyes as they all filed out of the room. Agent Syringe glared at him as he shut the door and pulled the lever marked "Emergency Lockdown."

"You have no idea what you're doing," he tried to shout through the glass, but Fitz ignored him as he placed a chair underneath the door handle for added measure (he _was_ an engineer). As soon as he did so, his burst of energy faded. The Night-Night gun clattered to the ground as his hands shook. What had he done?

He turned around to look at Skye, trying to see if he had been too late. She looked peaceful enough, almost as if she could be sleeping, and he breathed out a sigh of relief as he noticed her heart monitor jumping feebly. The beats were few and far between, but they were there. He knew her time was quickly running out, though.

He glanced at his watch and willed May to drive the Bus faster.

* * *

"Sir!" Simmons shouted as she raced after him up the stairs. He subtly slipped the two objects into his jacket pocket. "Do you have the serums? I need to get started right away if I'm to-"

Coulson turned around abruptly, causing her to nearly run into him. "It's too late for that, Simmons. They've already given her the Extremis."

Simmons placed her hand on the rail to steady herself, her face frozen in horror. "What?"

He made sure to keep his expression blank as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "May is getting us there as fast as she can, and Fitz is making sure no one goes in her room."

"But she could explode at any second!" Coulson had the sudden urge to explain everything to her, knowing that Simmons would be relentless until they reached the hospital. But as he took in her terrified expression, he knew that she wasn't ready to handle the truth about Skye's condition. He now realized why she had been kept out of Skye's surgery. She was too smart for her own good.

"We'll just have to hope she can hold on a little longer," he responded, turning around and continuing up the stairs. She paused but followed after him.

"Can I at least take the serums to the lab and run diagnostic tests? Maybe I can determine whether-"

He turned around again and sighed before holding up the small rack, one capped vial balancing in its holder. He saw a flash of recognition in her eyes as she mentally identified the familiar compound.

"That's Extremis," she said, sounding confused. "But I thought there were-"

"There were," he replied, making sure to look her in the eyes. "This is all that I was able to salvage from the lab. I'm sorry, Simmons."

She looked up at him with a curious expression. He could see she didn't quite believe what he was telling her, but she must have decided that it would be futile to argue.

"Very well, sir," she replied slowly. "I will take this Extremis and put it in the lab for safe-keeping. Wouldn't want anyone exploding on the Bus now, would we?" Her voice had gone up just slightly at the end, which was usually an indication that she was lying. He saw her eyes glance toward the binder he had tightly under his arm, but she simply held out her hand for the Extremis, a tight smile plastered on her face.

He thought about refusing her, but changed his mind at the last second. He didn't know what she was up to, but maybe if she busied herself in the lab examining a compound they'd already seen before, it would give her something to do other than follow him around. He carefully handed her the rack, and she immediately turned on her heel and headed downstairs.

Coulson made his way to his office and quietly locked the door behind him. He walked toward the back of the room and, checking over his shoulder, opened the safe hidden behind a wall panel. Placing the binder into the safe, he withdrew a small metal case and carried it over to the desk, setting it down and removing the two vials from his coat pocket. His hands remained steady as he poured their contents into two separate syringes.

* * *

She glanced behind her as she entered the lab, making sure Coulson hadn't followed her down the stairs. She knew he had seen through her lie, but she hoped he was too busy making sure they got back to the hospital on time to worry about what she was up to.

She quickly set the rack down and made her way to the small refrigerator near the back of the lab, where she kept all of the serums and antiserums she needed for her work. It was also where she had stored carefully labeled blood samples of the entire team.

It had been standard procedure and necessary for record-keeping when they had assembled. She had made them all complete a full physical, ensuring that they were in tip-top shape for the missions ahead. Jemma had insisted on blood samples in case any of them fell ill or got severely injured, knowing that they would aid her if she had to create an antiserum on the spot. She slowly withdrew the small vial marked with Skye's name and carried it over to the lab bench.

Jemma didn't know if doing this would actually help Skye. It was more for her own peace of mind, really. If she could just see how Skye's blood reacted to Extremis, maybe her doubts would be abated and she wouldn't spend the next hour worrying that Skye might explode, with Fitz along with her.

Fitz.

Jemma pushed her worry for her best friend out of her head as she carefully placed a few droplets of Skye's blood on a microscope slide. Uncapping the vial, she pipetted a microliter of Extremis and mixed it with the blood, placing the slide under the microscope. Bracing herself, she placed her eye up to the lens and focused the image.

Her eyes widened in surprise.


	10. Chapter 10

Ward burst through the hospital doors, two pistols held up at the ready. He was done with waiting around. It was time to finish this.

He glanced over his shoulder, making sure Coulson and Garrett were behind him. Garrett was on his six, protecting Coulson's backside. If Fury was telling the truth, then there were almost certainly S.H.I.E.L.D. agents already on the premises. And Ward had no doubt that they would be armed.

The hospital staff was the least of their concerns. Most of the orderlies held their hands above their heads and moved out of the way at the sight of the resolute trio and their weapons. They stormed through the main atrium and swung through the door barring access to unauthorized personnel, meeting no resistance. Ward instinctively slowed down as they rounded the first corner, knowing that they would come upon opposition soon enough. The hallway was completely empty.

This was a little too easy.

"Clear," he whispered behind him, and the group moved forward. He glanced in doorways as they passed them, searching for some sign of hostility, but the wing was eerily silent.

Ward couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into an ambush. "Where is everybody?"

Coulson just looked at him and smirked. "Oh, they know we're coming. Let's go say hello."

Ward nodded and continued to inch slowly along the hallway. They made it through two more passages before Coulson motioned for them to back up against the wall.

"All right, we're almost there," Coulson muttered. "Skye's being kept in a quarantined room in the next hallway. Hopefully Fitz was able to lock it down."

Ward made eye contact with both Coulson and Garrett before peeking his head around the corner, his gun raised. As soon as he did so, the hallway exploded with rapid gunfire. He immediately pulled his head back behind the wall, waiting for the shots to cease. The opposite wall continued to be peppered with bullet holes.

"We've come for medical assistance," Coulson shouted over the noise. "If you continue firing on us, we will defend ourselves." The shots continued to ring as the assailants failed to let up.

Ward turned to Garrett. "I count two hostiles."

"Copy that. Ready?" The spark in Garrett's eyes was not one that Ward was unfamiliar with, but it still managed to unsettle him. His S.O. liked firefights just a little too much. Ward nodded and Garrett motioned for Coulson to move behind him. They shared another glance and stood up to face their attackers, guns blazing.

The hostiles continued to fire as they rounded the corner, but Garrett managed to hit one within a few seconds. His partner, realizing he was outnumbered, dodged down the next hallway, probably to find backup or to notify HQ.

Coulson moved past them into the hallway, seemingly unfazed by the previous display of violence. He quickly marched up to a heavy metal doorway at the end of the passage and placed another pick-lock device next to the locking mechanism. In true Coulson fashion, he turned around to move a few paces away from the door, folding his arms as he waited for the small explosion. The metal door swung open almost immediately.

Garrett remained stationed outside. "I'll keep watch."

Coulson nodded and Ward followed after him through the opening. He quickly glanced at a few empty rooms before noticing a distraught-looking Fitz pacing in one at the end of the row. Fitz glanced up when he caught sight of their movements and gave them a look of exasperation as he moved a chair out of the way of the door and pulled up on a lever marked "Emergency Lockdown."

"It's about damn time," he exclaimed as the door whooshed open. "What took you so long?"

Coulson ignored him and made his way toward Skye's motionless body. Ward felt his breathing slow down as he looked at her still face. He suddenly wondered if they had been too late.

"Ward, take Fitz back to the Bus."

His head whipped up to see Coulson looking at him with a fierce intensity. He immediately began to protest.

"But-"

"_Now_," Coulson ordered.

"Not bloody likely," Fitz argued, his hands on his waist. "How do we know you have any idea what you're doing?"

Coulson scowled. "I am the only one in here that knows how to save her right now. And I can't do that with both of you hovering around, moping. Out. Now."

Ward saw Fitz look at him for assistance, but there was something in Coulson's eyes that made him back down.

"Come on, Fitz," he said quietly.

Fitz exploded. "Are you _joking_ right now? I'm not just gonna leave her here in the hands of-"

"I said _come on_, Fitz," Ward replied tightly. "We can't help her right now and we'll just be in the way."

Fitz looked like he was about to argue further but stopped himself when he saw Ward's face. Ward didn't know if Coulson was actually going to be able to save Skye, but he did know that if he failed, having Fitz there would be the last thing he would want. And Ward wasn't sure that he himself wanted to be there when that happened either.

Fitz glared at the both of them one more time before replying, "Fine. But you'd better know what you're doing."

Ward shared a nod with Coulson before he and Fitz exited the room and made their way past the metal door.

"Everything all right in there?" Garrett asked. He had his gun poised, ready to take down anyone who entered the hallway.

"It's just Coulson and Skye," Ward responded. "I'm bringing Fitz back to the Bus. Make sure _no one_ goes through that door." He turned around when Garrett nodded in agreement.

"Son, you're gonna need a little bit more than that sweater-vest combo to protect yourself," Garrett called out. Fitz turned around in confusion.

"Agent John Garrett," he said as he held out a pistol. Ward noticed Fitz's eyes widen and smiled a little to himself. His supervising officer was pretty legendary at the Academies.

"Thank you, sir," Fitz murmured as he grabbed onto the gun. He must have shown surprise at the weight because Garrett paused before releasing his hold. "Now, that ain't one of your fancy NNP-45s there. That's the real deal. So only shoot if Agent Ward tells you to."

Fitz nodded before turning around to face Ward, and they slowly made their way down the hallway.

They made it through two passages without incident, but as soon as they rounded the third corner, they heard a shrill voice coming from a side hallway.

"Fitz!"

Ward saw Fitz's face go white as he whipped around.

"_Jemma, what are you doing?_"

Simmons ran up to the two of them, concern etched on her face. "Where's Skye? I have to get in there. Coulson is making a _huge_ mistake."

Fitz was staring at his partner in horrified shock. "So you just came barging in here with _no_ protection? Do you have any idea how _stupid_-"

Her expression turned hard as she interrupted him. "We don't have time for this, Fitz. Not when at any second Skye could-"

Her voice was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Ward immediately spun around and aimed his rifle at their assailant. It was the same agent that had gotten away earlier. Fitz had grabbed Simmons and pushed her behind him, holding up his gun as well. They were at a standoff.

"Jemma," Ward heard Fitz whisper. "Skye is just down that hallway past a big metal door. When I say so, you run. Got it?"

"But-" she began to protest.

"Please don't argue with me, Jemma. Skye needs you." Simmons must have nodded in agreement, falling silent. After a few moments, Fitz murmured, "Now!" and Ward heard her take off at a sprint.

The agent still had his gun trained on them. "Ward?" Fitz was turning to him for guidance. The next few moments were critical, and he was responsible for getting all of them out of there alive. He wasn't going to fail again.

"Lower your weapon," he shouted at their attacker. "You're obviously outnumbered. If you surrender now, we won't shoot." There was a pause as the standoff continued. Despite the distance, Ward was able to see the agent make the split-second decision to pull the trigger.

But Ward had always been faster.

His shot rang straight and true, hitting the agent square in the chest. Ward had killed people before, but even though he had always been acting in self-defense, it never got any easier. He turned to Fitz, whose face was still pale.

"Good shot," he said, eyes trained on the pool of blood spreading around the agent. He shook his head and seemed to regain his senses. "We have to go back for Simmons."

Ward shook his head. "We need to head back to the Bus."

Fitz's face made the transition from white to red as he angrily hissed, "We don't know how many more of them there are! She has _no_ weapon and _no_ bulletproof vest. We're going back for her."

Ward fought very hard to keep his voice calm. "Fine. _I'll_ go back and get her. But _you_ need to get back to the Bus."

"There _no way_-"

"Fitz!" Ward shouted, no longer in control. "Just make yourself useful for once and stay out of the way!"

Fitz fell silent, a look of betrayal in his eyes. He glanced down at the ground and muttered something unintelligible before turning around and heading towards the exit. Ward was furious with himself, but he didn't have time to apologize. Time was running out. He turned on his heel and ran back down the hallway.

* * *

She burst into the room at full force, causing Coulson to turn around abruptly. She was thankful Garrett had let her in without protest. He must have seen the fierce determination on her face and thought it would be best to let her through.

Coulson took in her frazzled appearance with irritation, but she noticed a flash of fear go through his eyes.

"Sir, what are you doing?" she asked slowly, dragging her words out. Her eyes were fixed on the syringe in Coulson's hand, filled with the blue liquid she knew to be dendrotoxin.

Coulson avoided her gaze, but she heard a tremor in his voice as he responded, "I'm just giving her the dendrotoxin, Simmons. We need to stabilize the Extremis in her body."

"Actually, sir, I don't think that will be necessary."

Coulson gave her a curious expression. "What do you mean?" He sounded confused, but she had a feeling that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

She walked over to Skye's bed and glanced at the heart monitor. The beats were coming steadily. She tried to choose her words carefully. "Dendrotoxin is used to stabilize Extremis because of the heat signature found within the compound. But Skye…Skye is not showing any signs of extreme heat." She paused, quickly examining Skye's body. "Actually…she seems to be healing at an exponential rate. And…well…"

"Well?" Coulson sounded wary.

She looked him in the eyes. "I've never heard of anyone responding to Extremis this fast. It's almost as if-"

Coulson immediately broke away from her gaze and interrupted her. "That'll be all, Simmons."

"But-"

"Thank you for your input, but I'm gonna need you to leave the room now."

Jemma fought to remain calm, but the stress from the day combined with seeing Skye's helpless form made her voice rise up in hysteria. "You're going to give it to her, aren't you? You don't know how she'll respond!"

Just at that moment, Ward rushed into the room. Coulson glanced up.

"Ward, get Simmons out of here."

Ward looked alarmingly at the both of them. "What's going on?"

"I have to give Skye the dendrotoxin, Ward, and Simmons is having a nervous breakdown."

Ward began to move towards her, but she threw her hands up and backed away from him. "But we don't know what it'll do to her!" she shouted. "Her blood cells-"

"Ward. Now."

Ward looked conflicted, but after sharing a brief glance with Coulson, gently grabbed Jemma's arm and began to drag her out of the room. She squirmed in his grasp until they made it past the metal doorway, where he released his grip. She immediately began hitting him on the chest, knowing fully well that she wasn't going to hurt him but needing something to channel out her frustration.

"You idiot!" she cried, failing to keep the tears from streaming down her face. "Don't you care what happens to her?"

Ward gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "_Of course_ I do, Simmons. Coulson's in there right now making sure she doesn't explode!"

Why wasn't anyone listening to her? "_She wasn't going to explode_!" At Ward's puzzled expression, she sighed exasperatedly. "She was stable! If he gives her that dendrotoxin, he could paralyze her. _Permanently_."

* * *

He stared down at Skye's peaceful face. She looked so serene, unaware of the events unfolding around her and ignorant of the horrors of her past. He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and felt his heart constrict with pain from what he was about to do. He knew that if she made it through, she would never forgive him. What he was doing was unforgivable.

But he needed to do this. He needed to make sure she was protected. What happened today could never happen ever again.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as he plunged the syringe into her heart.

* * *

Ward's eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to process what Simmons was saying. Skye wasn't going to explode? Then what was Coulson doing? Just at that moment, there was the sound of a high-pitched scream. He saw Simmons's eyes go wide and they both began pounding on the door. The lock was still broken, but something had been placed on the other side to prevent them from entering.

"Sir!" he shouted. "Open the door!"

Garrett came up from behind them. "What's happening?"

Ward felt control spiral out of his hands as her screams rang in his ears. "He's put something in front of the door. I have to get in there."

He felt a hand on his arm and looked at his supervising officer. Simmons was still trying to open the door.

"Son, I think all we can do at this point is wait it out."

Ward paused, taking in Garrett's words. Something in the back of his mind told him that he should listen. He heard another scream.

No.

No more waiting.

He turned around and began pounding on the door with full force.

* * *

She finished parking the Bus and powered down the engine. Exhausted, she sighed, and rested her head on her fingertips.

This day was _not_ going the way it was supposed to have gone.

She hadn't slept since the night before they boarded the train, and the events of the day were finally catching up to her. She gingerly felt her left shoulder, making sure the wound hadn't reopened.

How could things have gone so wrong so quickly? She might not show it very often (or ever), but she actually did care about everyone on the team. None of them deserved to go through what they had gone through today. And Skye sure has hell didn't deserve to die. May knew that whatever happened in that hospital today, however this whole thing all played out, they were not going to walk away from it unscathed. Things like this tended to destroy.

She suddenly raised her head, senses on high alert.

Someone had entered the interrogation room.

* * *

He didn't know how he got there. One minute, he had been walking away from Ward, fuming, and the next he had found himself in front of the Bus's interrogation room. He felt detached from his own body as he glanced down at the gun in his right hand. Without thinking, he opened the door and entered the room.

Quinn immediately looked up, about to make some sarcastic remark, and stopped himself, obviously surprised at the identity of his latest guest.

He chuckled. "Well, if it isn't S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resident rocket scientist. I have to admit, I didn't expect you to come pay me a visit." He paused as he took in Fitz's crazed expression. "This isn't exactly your comfort zone, is it? I'd have figured you'd be hiding away in a lab somewhere, like you techies tend to do." Fitz didn't respond, but slowly raised the gun, pointing it at Quinn. He supported his right hand with his left to keep it steady. Quinn didn't even flinch.

"Aww, is this about your friend? She _is_ awfully pretty, isn't she? To tell you the truth, I really didn't want to shoot her." He sighed, sounding disappointed. "Such a waste of potential. But it was necessary."

One shot was all it would take. One shot would destroy the person who had hurt Skye. One shot would redeem him from his mistakes. One shot would make him the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he had never been able to be. One shot.

He placed his finger on the trigger.

"Go ahead," Quinn smiled, taunting him. "Or do you not have the guts?"

Just then, he felt a small hand rest on top of his. His finger released the trigger and he lowered the gun, shaking. The hand gently removed the gun from his grasp, and he turned around to look into the concerned eyes of Agent May.


	11. Chapter 11

It only lasted six minutes. Six minutes and twelve seconds, to be exact. He knew because he counted. He knew because they were, without a doubt, the worst six minutes and twelve seconds of his life.

Skye was in agony. Her screams bored into his skull, effectively erasing any false sense of control he thought he had on the situation. He felt his resolve crumble as he watched the dendrotoxin take hold. Fury had said that the process wasn't "exactly painless." Wasn't exactly painless? Coulson felt rage course through his body. This wasn't pain. This was torture.

What if he had been wrong? What if she really didn't have the genes S.H.I.E.L.D. thought she did? What if Simmons had been right, and he had just single-handedly brought about Skye's death? After she had already suffered through so much? After he had already let her down?

He reached out a hand to stroke her face, despite knowing that any act of comfort he provided would be absolutely useless against the pain of the dendrotoxin. Her eyes suddenly whipped open and she grasped onto his arm with a grip so tight it cut off his circulation. He didn't even notice, her glassy eyes the only thing tying him to the present moment. She was muttering unintelligibly, as if she were trying to tell him something. He shook his head, unable to speak, trying to indicate that he didn't understand what she was saying. Her face contorted with another scream, and she then met his gaze with a fierce lucidity that sent a chill through to his core. The next words that came out of her mouth crushed all that was left of him.

"Please…just let me die," she whispered before succumbing to the pain again. Her brief moment of coherence was gone, but she continued to hold onto his arm as if it were the only thing keeping her alive.

Coulson wanted nothing more than to explain to her why he did it. He tried to tell her that he just wanted her to be protected, that this was the only way he could think of to make sure that what happened with Quinn never happened to her again. He wanted her to know that she was such an important part of this team, _his_ team, and that losing her was not an option, not when they still had so much left to do, not when _she_ still had so much life left to live. He tried to say all of these things to her, but the only words that escaped his lips were the same words over and over again: "It's okay. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

He let her squeeze his arm as the dendrotoxin finished its work. Her screams lost their power, but Coulson could tell that she was in no less pain. She was losing. Blue tendrils flashed briefly on her face and rippled along her arms. As they faded, her grip loosened on his arm and she fell still. He gently turned her wrist over and injected the contents of the second syringe, a single tear rolling down his face.

Brushing back the hair from her forehead, he anxiously watched her motionless form. Had it worked? How would he know? He held his breath as he waited for some sign of whether or not he had succeeded. He couldn't have failed. He didn't know what he would do if he failed. She couldn't die. Not like this. Not right now.

He felt his stomach drop as he heard a long beep coming from the heart monitor behind him.

* * *

"It's no use," Simmons cried, her hands bleeding from continuously pounding on the door. "We can't get in there."

Ward stilled his movements and rested his hands on the cool metal, breathing heavily. He had no idea what was going on anymore. In less than 24 hours, his whole world had been turned upside down.

It had all started with a mission gone south. Since then, one of their own had been shot, they had infiltrated a facility run by the very organization he had dedicated his life to, he had knocked out Director Fury, and he had been involved in a firefight against people who had, until today, been on the same side as him. And now he was forced to listen as all of those efforts were made useless.

He heard another scream, but this one was different. The urgency was gone, replaced by an agony that nearly drove him insane. It was like her body was giving out, and that cry was her last plea to the world to make the pain go away. He heard his brother's quiet sobs in that cry, trapped in the well. He heard the cries of all the agents that had fallen beside him on failed missions. He heard the agonized sob of a girl that was supposed to be under _his_ protection. He heard all of his failures in that one unbearable sound.

"Simmons, move out of the way," he said quietly.

"Ward, you're not going to be able to open it. We've been trying-"

He turned his head to look directly at Simmons, who fell silent when she saw his expression. Her tears stopped as she held his gaze for just a moment longer, maybe hoping to give him some added strength or something. She gave a small nod before backing up to stand next to Garrett, who was looking at him with a concern that Ward didn't have time to address.

He closed his eyes and centered himself. He should've known better. Losing control and letting his emotions get in the way made him sloppy. He had let his fear overtake his movements, frantically pounding on the door when he knew that the only way to get the job done was to push everything aside and focus. He took a deep breath and channeled all of his energy.

The door burst open with one powerful kick.

Simmons flew past him into the passage and ran into Skye's room, Ward following closely behind. He immediately stopped in his tracks. Skye was lying motionless on the bed, and as he glanced over into Coulson's panic-stricken face, he felt as if he had been dropped a hundred feet. Simmons was standing, frozen, her eyes trained on the flat line displayed by the heart monitor. He noticed her sway on the spot and instinctively held out his arms to steady her. She reached behind her and grabbed onto him, shaking. Ward was thankful for her in that moment, knowing that if she hadn't been there to hold onto, he probably would have collapsed himself. They remained still, all three of them, staring at Skye, for what felt like an eternity. Time fell away. All he could see was Skye's unmoving form. All he could hear was that interminable beep ringing in his ears.

Just then, the beeping changed. He felt Simmons jump in his arms as they all looked at the heart monitor.

There, amidst the long line of unchanging uniformity, was a single hill.

After a few moments, it was followed by another, then another, until they started coming regularly. It took all of his strength not to let his knees give out from relief. He felt Simmons go limp and quickly grabbed a chair for her to sit down in. She rested her head in her hands and sobbed once before looking up at him with a watery smile. Ward smiled back, failing to keep a few of his own tears from falling down his face.

Skye was going to be okay.

* * *

The pain hadn't lasted long, after she'd been shot.

That's not to say that it didn't hurt like hell and could only be compared to stepping on a nail. Only through her gut. Followed closely by the sensation of swallowing a burning bowling ball. But thankfully her body had decided to show mercy and knock her unconscious, sparing her the agony of enduring that any longer.

She was hovering in a sea of white, numb to the world. Ironically enough, she'd never felt more safe than she did right there in that in-between place. She didn't have to run anymore. She didn't have to worry about her past. She didn't have to try to prove herself to people who didn't care about her. For once, she could just…be.

No expectations. No fear. No pain.

Peace.

After a while, she realized that she was probably dead.

Oh, well. It happens.

She _had_ been stupid enough to try to stop Quinn alone. So she supposed she probably deserved it. But still. She had hoped to achieve a little bit more with her time before taking her final bow.

Had the team been able to stop Quinn? She sure hoped so. Maybe then her death wouldn't have been for nothing.

She wondered how they were doing. Had they buried her yet? Had they even found her? Or was she still lying next to the door in Quinn's basement? She didn't expect them to grieve too much for her – after all, they barely knew her and she had hardly proved her trustworthiness to them. God, they didn't even know her real name. But she held onto the small hope that maybe they would spare her a thought from time to time.

And really, that was her one regret: that she would never be able to tell them how much they all meant to her. Despite the fact that she knew she was only considered a flight risk to the team, in the past few months she had finally started to feel like she had found a place where she belonged, where she could make a difference in the world. She had even convinced herself for a little while that they had been starting to like her. She knew it was just a silly little fantasy, but sometimes it was nice to pretend.

She figured that that was life, though. Sometimes you couldn't always do everything you wanted to. Sometimes you couldn't tell the people you cared about exactly how much they mattered. It's unfortunate, but again, it happens.

She absentmindedly wondered if she was in Heaven. She had heard a lot of descriptions of the place growing up at St. Agnes, and while white was usually used by the nuns to describe the afterlife, she had expected a little bit more than the endless sea she found herself floating in. But she supposed that for an unbeliever like herself, she really shouldn't have had any grand expectations. And this really wasn't so bad. Compared to the alternative, she thought that she would have no problem staying in this place for the rest of eternity, relaxing in quiet peace.

That's when her blood caught fire.

It was like nothing she had ever felt before. The heat coursed through her veins, burning everything it touched. She tried desperately to escape the pain, but she was frozen in place. No matter what she did, the fire continued to tear at her body. She heard herself scream and cried out for someone, anyone, to just make the pain go away. She would rather die than live like this.

And just as suddenly as it had arrived, the pain disappeared. She was numb again. She vaguely wondered if she was going back to the white place.

The world around her faded and everything went black.

* * *

She didn't know how much time passed before she came back. She was thankfully still numb. Maybe she really was dead now. She tried to sink into the numbness, wanting nothing more than to succumb to the oblivion, but something shone at the far edge of her vision. It slowly grew brighter, nearly blinding her, until it enveloped her entire body.

She struggled to open her eyes.

At first, she couldn't make out anything, the colors swirling together in one giant blur. She blinked a few times, squinting under the light, until her vision focused on Coulson's anxious face right in front of hers.

He was there. Of course he was there.

"Hey, A.C.," she croaked, trying to sit up. Coulson gently but firmly pushed her shoulders back into the pillows.

"Whoa there. Just chill out for a sec, okay? You were shot." He said it in his typical Coulson way, emanating dry humor, but she could tell that he was struggling to keep his face neutral. She decided not to fight him on this one.

"Yeah, I was," Skye responded, smiling a little despite the circumstances. "So does that makes me a real S.H.I.E.L.D. agent now?"

She saw him fight the urge to chuckle. "How about we get to that later?" His face grew serious. "First off, how are you feeling?"

She was about to say something along the lines of, "Like I was shot in the stomach. Twice." She was a firm believer that if someone refused the opportunity to say something like that, they were wasting everyone's time. But unfortunately (or fortunately, she supposed), the pain in her abdomen was gone.

"Other than a killer headache, I feel great, actually." She was surprised. Shouldn't she be experiencing some aching or something? Surely her wounds hadn't been that superficial. Skye glanced down toward her stomach and widened her eyes in surprise. The skin had completely healed over.

"_Whoa_," she breathed. "How long have I been out?"

She glanced up at Coulson, who looked like he was inwardly deciding how much he wanted to tell her.

"Yeah, about that," he said warily. "Your recovery hasn't exactly been…normal."

Uh oh. That could never mean anything good.

"What do you mean?"

* * *

He slowly followed her out of the room, cheeks burning. He'd really done it now. If Coulson didn't fire him from the team, then surely Agent May would make sure he was stripped of his security clearance and sent to the nearest mental hospital.

How could he have been so stupid?

There was an uncomfortable silence as he waited for May to say something.

"You know, when I said that going into the field meant getting your hands dirty, _this _wasn't what I meant," she said quietly, gesturing toward the gun in her hand.

He looked up at her, hoping that she could see the apology in his face.

"I wasn't-"

"You don't have to say anything." Her expression remained impassive, but he saw a look of understanding flash through her eyes. Her intense gaze made him break away and stare down at the floor, and he tried to think of something to say that would convince her he hadn't completely lost his mind.

"Look…um…" he struggled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you mind not-"

"I won't tell anyone."

He breathed out a sigh of relief.

"But Agent Fitz."

He glanced up at her, expecting the worst.

"Whatever it is you're going through right now, whatever demons you're battling against…you need to sort it out. Soon."

He simply nodded in response, not knowing what to say. Figuring he was dismissed, he began heading toward the stairs.

"Fitz?" He immediately spun around, bracing himself for another chastisement. But May's expression had softened.

"You've done well today."

What the hell was she talking about? He'd done nothing. Absolutely nothing but be a coward and make a damn fool of himself. He managed to give her a tight smile anyway before heading down the stairs.

When he entered the lab, he had no idea what to do with himself. He felt like an exposed nerve, like the smallest thing would send him over the edge. Maybe he was already over the edge. He didn't know anymore.

Skye needed to be okay. She just needed to be okay. He didn't know what he would do if she wasn't okay.

Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed the small object he had been working on earlier. He picked it up and held it in his palm, considering whether or not to destroy it. It's not like it would make a difference anyway. It was useless right now, just like he was. He was just about to smash it on the lab bench when he thought better of it and slipped it into his pocket instead.

* * *

"Wait," she exclaimed, hardly containing her excitement. "So I have, like, superpowers?"

Oh, boy. He should've known this was coming. And all he had done was tell her about the Extremis. He realized he had made the right choice in leaving out the part about the dendrotoxin, especially considering he had repressed those abilities with the last serum. There was no need to freak her out any more than he needed to. They could deal with that another day.

He tried to keep his expression stern as he replied, "You're able to heal three times as fast as normal."

She was still smiling. "So…super healing powers."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Eh, if you wanna call it that…sure." He figured he could give her this one thing.

She took it without complaint. "That's so cool."

"All right, all right, don't get cocky about it," he replied. "You can still get hurt." He didn't want her to start going around jumping off buildings or slicing her hand on knives to show off her newfound abilities. She nodded with mock seriousness, but he could still see a smile playing on her lips.

"So boss, you gonna send me to Tahiti?"

He knew she was asking jokingly, but that didn't stop his heart from hammering loudly in his chest. "Do you want to go to Tahiti?"

The smile faded, and he knew she was remembering the day she had found him at the hands of the Clairvoyant's employees. "No," she said softly.

There was a heavy pause, and her expression turned to confusion as she seemed to consider something.

"Wait…if you gave me the Extremis, did you also give me the stuff in the Night-Night gun? I'm not gonna, like, explode or anything, am I?"

He chose his words carefully. "Not exactly." At her puzzled face, he decided to continue. "Skye…when I say that you can heal three times as fast as normal, I don't just mean three times faster than a normal human being." He paused. "You can heal faster than a normal human being _with_ Extremis."

Her eyes widened. "I don't understand-" she began, but something must have clicked in her head. "Wait. Does this have to do with the whole me-being-an-0-8-4 thing?"

He hesitated, weighing his options. "Yeah," he responded.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on. When he remained silent, she gave him a look of quiet exasperation. "Coulson…just tell me."

He looked down at his hands. "The reason why Extremis has had this effect on you is because of…your genes."

"My genes?" Skye sounded confused. "But I don't even know-"

"There have been some…developments in what we've been able to find out about your past." He glanced up and saw that her face had paled.

"But…I thought it was a dead end," she whispered.

He had no idea how she was going to react to the truth, but he decided that after all she'd been through, he owed her this much. "I thought so, too. But because of how you reacted to the Extremis, it's becoming more and more likely that you…" He avoided her gaze.

"That I what?" She had never been good with suspense. He could tell she just wanted him to spit it out.

He took a deep breath and plunged forward. "That there's a part of your genetic makeup that's not of…this world."

At her silence, he glanced down at her, and immediately regretted his decision to tell her the truth. He had never seen her this speechless before. Her eyes welled up with tears and she appeared to be stumbling over the thoughts in her head, trying to form them into words. She looked down at her hands as if she were seeing them for the first time.

"You mean," she whispered, "I'm not even…human?"

Before he could stop himself, he had moved over to the side of her bed and grabbed her hands in his, willing her to look at him. He gingerly sat down, making sure not to brush up against her newly healed side. She continued to stare at her hands.

"Don't you _ever_ for a _second_ think something like that, do you understand me?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but his shattered heart made his voice crack towards the end. She looked up at him, tears flowing freely. "There are people in this world who don't deserve to call themselves human. Being human is not about what blood runs through your veins or where you come from. Being human is about how much you care, about how much you live, about how much you fight to do the right thing." He paused, brushing away a tear on her cheek. "You're more human than a lot of humans I know."

She continued to look at him with a pain that tore at his heartstrings, but she nodded and seemed to regain her composure, wiping the tears off of her face.

"So, um…where is everybody else?" Coulson was about to stand up, never one for extended periods of emotion, but thought better of it and remained where he was.

"May should be just about finished docking the Bus. I sent Fitz back there after we returned. He managed to lock down your room and made sure nobody else touched you, but I think knocking out four orderlies with the Night-Night gun really took a toll on him." He looked over to see Skye's shocked expression.

"Wait…_Fitz_? Locked down my room? Knocked out orderlies? After you returned…returned from where? What have you guys been _doing_ while I've been unconscious?"

Coulson sighed. "It's a long story. And probably a lot more interesting coming from one of the other kids."

He had expected her to at least smile appreciatively at his last comment, but instead her face went white. "Wait…do the others know about…?"

"No," he replied, and saw her breathe a sigh of relief. "But…I think Simmons might figure it out soon, if she hasn't figured it out already. You'll probably want to tell her before that happens."

Skye sat up straighter. "Simmons is okay? Oh, thank God."

Coulson gave her a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"She, like, jumped on a grenade on the train," Skye responded, looking alarmed that he didn't know about it. "To save me and Fitz."

The warning bell went off in his head again. "What? We found Simmons on the train, we knew she got hit with the dendrotoxin…but are you sure she _jumped_ on it?"

"Well…she more, like, hugged the dude so that she'd take the blast. But still. She's starting to make Captain America look selfish."

Coulson was silent as he tried to process this new development. Why hadn't he been paying more attention to Simmons?

"Where's Ward?" Skye asked.

"Hmm?" he looked up at Skye's inquisitive glance and shook his head. "Oh, um, I think he's a little nervous to see you. Your whole situation has shaken up the team pretty bad."

"Are you serious? I thought you guys hated me." She said it dismissively, but it still felt like a knife to his gut.

"You're part of this team now, Skye," he said, looking into her eyes. Her smile faded as she saw the pain in his. "You should know that by now." She broke away from his gaze, cheeks reddened. He paused before saying, "And you shouldn't have gone in there alone."

She immediately whipped her head up. "Where's Quinn?"

"We've got him," he reassured her.

"And Mike?"

"Mike?"

"Peterson," she replied pointedly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What are you talking about?"

She sighed with irritation.

"He was there!" she exclaimed. "At Quinn's house. Quinn gave him some kind of robot leg and he was acting totally weird. It was pretty scary, actually."

Coulson stood up abruptly. "I'll be back," he called over his shoulder as he headed towards the exit. Two nurses warily approached the room carrying food trays.

"Wait – you're just gonna leave me here?" At the sight of the nurses, she temporarily forgot him. "Oh, good, I'm _starving_."

* * *

He continued pacing, unable to focus on anything. He wanted to run back into the hospital and find out for himself what was going on. Ward should have brought Jemma back by now. The fact that they hadn't returned made his breaths come short as he considered all of the possible dangers that could have delayed them. Hopefully Jemma had made it to Skye on time. He remembered the look in Coulson's eyes before he left and cursed himself for listening to Ward. He should have stayed. He shouldn't have left Skye alone again, even if he didn't know how to save her. He should've remained by her side until the very end. It would have been the absolute least he could do to make up for all of the pain he had caused her.

He noticed a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Jemma running up the gangway. Fitz held his breath as she rushed into the lab, bracing himself. He thought he was going to puke.

As her face drew nearer, his alarm grew at seeing the tear tracks on her cheeks. But when he caught her gaze, she broke into a smile that brought down a relief so strong it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

"Skye's all right," she managed to get out.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, and placed his hands on the lab bench to steady himself.

As relief for Skye passed through, all of his barriers came crashing down, and he felt an icy fear take hold of his heart, the one he had been pushing down for months, the one he had been feebly keeping at bay for the last 24 hours. He still felt like he was going to puke. Instead, he whispered, almost to himself:

"What the hell were you thinking, Jemma?"

The moment he said it, he wished he hadn't. Now was not the time or place he had wanted to have this conversation. Once he had said it, though, he couldn't take it back. He knew she had heard him by the sharp intake of her breath.

"What?" she whispered.

"I said," he repeated more forcibly. "What. The _hell_. Were you thinking?" He almost said her name again, just to make sure she knew how serious he was, but he didn't trust his voice not to crack. He looked up at her to see her staring at him in shock.

"Fitz, I don't have any idea what you're talking about," she said, her voice trembling.

"Oh, please, Jemma. Don't play the innocent card. You know damn well what I'm talking about."

Her voice rose as she met his intensity. He knew she hated feeling inferior when they argued, even if he was right. "Actually, Fitz, not everyone can follow what goes on in your head all the time. You can't just expect me to know exactly what you're thinking every minute of every day!"

Couldn't he, though? She had always been able to follow his line of thought. This entire conversation was just getting worse and worse.

"Oh. Really, now? Well, then answer me this, Jemma. Do you have some kind of death wish?"

He saw her open and close her mouth in astonishment, trying to recover her composure. But he saw the flash of fear in her eyes. "I don't know-" she began quietly, but he shouted over her.

"You don't know, do you? Jemma, _come on_. It's obvious that you have some kind of a problem-"

"Fitz, if this is about the whole hospital thing-"

"No, it's not just about the whole bloody hospital thing!" he screamed. She fell silent. "But you have to admit that that was pretty stupid, too. Running in there without backup? With no weapon? What were you thinking?"

She avoided his gaze. "I needed to help Skye," she murmured.

He fought to control his voice. "And how were you going to help her if you wound up _dead_, hmm?"

He saw her eyes fill with tears as she searched his face for some kind of clue as to where this was all coming from. "Fitz, what is this really all about?"

"The train, Jemma!" he shouted, and paused, taking in deep breaths. "The train," he repeated, more quietly. He could feel the anger seeping out of his bones, replaced by an exhaustion that threatened to crumble his resolve. He looked up and saw that she knew what he was talking about, but that she wasn't going to let him win so easily.

"Fitz, I don't-"

"You took that grenade, Jemma. Why?" He kept his voice steady.

She looked at him incredulously. "To protect you and Skye! Why else would I have-"

"And _who told you_ that we needed protecting? That was not your call to make, Jemma!"

"Fitz, it all happened so quickly, I didn't even think about-"

He pointed his finger at her. "Ah, but that _wasn't the first time_, was it?" She was speechless, apparently uncomprehending, but he knew that she was finally on the same page he was, knew that she was remembering the look on his face right before she jumped, standing in the same spot she was standing in right now. Without looking at her, he walked past her towards the Bus's exit. She remained stunned for a few moments before calling after him, "Fitz, where are you going?"

"Just leave me alone right now, Simmons," he called back, and cursed himself once again.

He hated yelling at her like this. It took every ounce of his strength not to look back as he walked away, knowing he would see the hurt in her eyes and take back everything he had said. He needed her to know that he was serious.

But could he really not have picked a better time to blow up at her?

He knew how much stress and pressure she had been put under today. It was a part of her nature to remain calm under strain. She had always been the perfectionist, constantly aiming to please her professors, the higher-ups at SciOps, even him when they first met. He knew that Coulson had placed too many demands upon her to find a cure for Skye. She shouldn't have felt like Skye's safety was in her hands. She didn't need anyone else yelling at her. Jemma had always been good at doing that to herself.

He wanted nothing more than to close the gap between them, take her into his arms, and fix this. But she needed to know how much her actions hurt him. He would have to find her later and apologize, but right now he needed to sort out his thoughts, without her soothing presence there to quell the fears he had to address.

* * *

She picked up the phone after the third ring, but not before glancing at the clock on her bedside table. Who on earth was calling her at this hour?

"Hello?" she answered groggily.

She was immediately greeted with a terse voice. "Coulson is dead."

She sat up abruptly. "_What_? Are you sure?"

Fury groaned before replying, "Okay, he's not dead yet. But I'm gonna kill him!"

Maria rolled her eyes and was about to tell Fury to call her back at a more reasonable hour when she heard what sounded like waves crashing in the background.

"Where are you?"

"It's a long story." There was a pause before Fury lowered his voice. "Maria…he knows."

She was still shaking off her tiredness, but her ears perked up at his urgency. "What…_everything_?"

"No, not everything. But he knows about T.A.H.I.T.I."

Maria let out a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad. And she had had a feeling Coulson was going to find out about that project soon enough anyways.

"So…what's the damage?"

"It's bad, Hill. The lab's gone. I can't just let him get away with this."

She was about to respond when she caught sight of the light of the TV screen at the foot of her bed. She had fallen asleep watching some sitcom or other, but as her eyes focused she noticed the station was broadcasting a foreign news report. She switched the channel to confirm what she had already suspected, that it was being broadcast on every station. The language looked Finnish, maybe Hungarian.

"You can't fire Coulson, sir."

"I can do whatever I damn well want!" Fury shouted.

"We're gonna need him. And his team."

"What are you talking about?"

She slowly turned up the volume on her screen.

"Are you near a television, sir?"


	12. Chapter 12

She remained rooted to the spot, staring after him in stunned silence.

They had never had a fight like this. Sure, there had been some nasty arguments between them over the years, but they had always managed to resolve them somehow before one of them walked away. And their fights had never had much substance, anyways, usually petty disagreements about lab cleanliness or what to name their creations or whether or not they needed a nonhuman primate as a lab assistant (they didn't).

But this one was different. There was only one other time she could think of where they had argued this severely, and she had been standing in the exact same spot she was now, separated from him by the lab's glass doors as she struggled to find a way to combat the Chitauri virus. But even then, even after she had lashed out at him, even after she had pointed out his insecurities in an attempt to fight down her own terror, he hadn't budged. He had stayed with her until the very end, had worked with her to find a cure, had even risked contracting the virus himself by entering the lab. He had been beside her the whole damn time.

She heard a strangled sob escape from her lips as soon as he was out of earshot. The exhaustion of the past 24 hours combined with her relief for Skye's safety suddenly became too overwhelming, and she stumbled over to the lab bench, collapsing in tears. Jemma had just wanted all of this to be over, and now that it was, she realized that the panic she had been fighting down all day had not subsided with Skye's recovery. She had fought so hard to keep her alive, and now Jemma had to face the fact that Skye was not alive by any of her own abilities, but through sheer chance. If she hadn't responded positively to the dendrotoxin, then all of their efforts would have been made useless. And Jemma would've failed.

She still felt like she had failed. After all, she hadn't been able to stop Agent Coulson from giving Skye the serum. Nothing she had done today had made a shred of difference.

And now Fitz was angry with her. Fitz, the one person she needed right now, the one person who would be able to understand the swirling emotions she herself couldn't even comprehend. Fitz always knew the right thing to say, was always able to comfort her when she was upset. She could usually tell when he wanted to be left alone, but right now _she_ didn't want to be left alone.

What on earth had he been talking about? Fitz had always been prone to random outbursts, but most of the time she was able to follow his haphazard train of thought. What had he meant, asking if she had some kind of death wish? That was absurd. She didn't have a death wish.

Did she?

She thought back to the incident on the train. All she had seen was that grenade ready to go off. All she had been able to think of was that Fitz and Skye couldn't get hurt. She hadn't even put herself into the equation. All she had known was that she was the only thing that could prevent that grenade from harming her team. Her friends.

And it had been the same thing with the Chitauri virus. She wasn't going to risk the lives of other people for no reason other than to appeal to her own sense of comfort. She had thought it had been too late. She had thought the antiserum hadn't worked. They had been out of options, and the only logical conclusion she had come to was, again, to remove herself from the equation. That's what any of the rest of them would've done. She knew that Ward or Coulson or even May wouldn't have hesitated to make the same decision. So she had only been doing the proper thing…right?

And surely that didn't mean she had a _death wish_?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. She looked up to yell at Fitz and tell him to go away when she was surprised to see a very uncomfortable-looking Ward standing in front of her. She quickly wiped the tears off of her face and tried to sit up straighter.

"Oh, um…is everything all right? Has Skye-"

"She's awake," Ward responded, meeting her gaze and then looking away. She could tell that he desperately wanted to be anywhere else. She tried to give him a smile in the hopes of alleviating some of the awkwardness.

"Really?" She put as much enthusiasm as she could behind her words. "That's great."

"Yeah, they're, uh, moving her to a different room now. One that's not so…you know, isolated."

She laughed a little despite herself and nodded, looking down at her hands. She could feel the tears threatening to surface again, and figured Ward would leave the room now that he had delivered the news. So she was surprised when out of the corner of her eye she saw him tentatively sit down next to her. She heard him take a deep breath, like he was gathering up the courage to say something comforting. Oh, dear. He didn't do this kind of thing very often, did he?

"You know, Simmons…Skye wouldn't even be alive right now if it weren't for you."

So that's what he thought she was upset about. She supposed that made sense, given the circumstances. And he wasn't entirely wrong.

"It's just been a long day, you know?" she replied, looking up at him. She saw him nod absentmindedly, the dark circles under his eyes a clear indication of just how much he understood. Jemma sighed. "Fitz thinks I have a death wish," she groaned before she could stop herself.

She could feel Ward's concerned eyes on her and kept her gaze down on the table. Why had she said that? She didn't need to bring Ward into her problem with Fitz. He had enough of his own problems to deal with. She heard him breathe out slowly and pause before venturing forward.

"Well…can you blame him?" Jemma looked up at him in surprise. "Coulson told me what you did on the train. That was above and beyond anything anyone here would have expected of you."

She looked away again, cheeks burning. So Ward agreed with Fitz? What was going on?

"I-I didn't even think about it," she stammered. "I was just trying to protect-"

"I know," he said firmly, willing her to look at him. "Believe me, I know."

He paused again, and at her inquisitive glance looked down at his hands. She thought that he had finished, but he seemed to inwardly make the decision to continue. "I've spent a lot of my life putting myself in danger to protect those that I care about." He glanced up at her. "But if I had kept that up, I would've died before long. Thankfully, S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited me before that happened. They gave me a way to fight back, and they gave me the tools and skills in order to do that."

Jemma held her breath. She'd never heard Ward talk so much, let alone about his past. She stayed silent and waited for him to go on.

"You and Fitz…you guys don't have the kind of training I do. You two do your whole science thing, and that's _good_. That's what our team needs from you." He was looking at her with a rare warmth that made her cheeks burn, but she forced herself to keep her eyes on his. "You're literally the smartest person I've ever met, Simmons. And probably the bravest, too." He gave her a small smile before growing serious again. His eyes remained soft, though. "But please don't take it upon yourself to make sacrifices that include your own life. We're a team, and like Coulson said…we'd hate to lose you, Jemma."

Well, that was just too much now, wasn't it? Jemma quickly looked down at her lap and fought back the tears that were welling up again. Goodness, how many times had she cried today? She'd lost count.

"Thank you, Ward," she managed to say, nodding to let him know she had understood his words. There was another pause, and she fervently hoped that he would leave and save her any further embarrassment. She felt his elbow nudge hers.

"You should, uh, probably talk to Fitz." She looked up and saw that he had a smirk on his face.

She groaned. "I'm pretty sure he hates me right now."

"Put yourself in his shoes, and imagine _him_ taking a grenade to protect you and Skye without a second thought. And this is _after_ he's already jumped out of an airplane to certain death to make sure you don't get electrocuted." He was trying to get her to smile, but his words just made her feel worse.

"I suppose I've been a bit selfish, haven't I?"

He laughed, startling her. "Quite the opposite, actually. But he's probably still shaken up by it."

She nodded absentmindedly, and as he stood up she quickly made a decision.

"Ward?"

"Yeah?"

"Um…would you mind…after this has all blown over…um…sorry, this is probably a weird question…" She hesitated.

Ward sighed with quiet exasperation. "Yes, Simmons?"

She powered forward. "Well, I know you've been training Skye, and that you're her S.O. and all, but maybe you could, um…" She couldn't get the words out, and looked up at Ward for assistance.

"Give you some self-defense lessons?" he finished. She felt the blush on her cheeks again and chided herself for being so embarrassed. This was the proper thing to do.

"Yeah," she admitted sheepishly. She looked up, expecting to see judgment in his eyes, but he was smiling.

"Of course." He gave her a small nod and began to head towards the stairs.

"Grant?" He turned around, a question in his expression, probably surprised that she had used his first name. She'd never done that before.

"Thank you."

* * *

The door burst open as Coulson stormed into the room, May following closely behind him.

"Oh, good. I, uh, need to use the little men's room."

Coulson ignored him. "Deal with it," he replied tersely before slamming his hands down on the table in front of him. "What have you done with Mike Peterson?"

Quinn just looked at him with amusement, and it took all of Coulson's willpower not to smack the grin off of his face.

"Ah, so you've finally connected the dots, have you?" Quinn's expression faltered slightly as he saw May take a step forward.

"Well that's too bad, because I actually don't know where he is. But trust me. You'll find him when he's ready to be found."

* * *

She liked this room better. It wasn't in the middle of the creepiest hospital wing she had ever seen and she was able to have visitors. There was even a window...giving her a lovely view of the neighboring building. But the morning sun was streaming in, so she couldn't complain. She had thought for a while there that she would never see the sun again.

She was just about to ring for a nurse to ask if they had WiFi when Fitz nervously popped his head in her doorway.

"Hey, Fitz." She beamed up at him as he hesitantly walked over to her bed.

"Hey," he replied. He had a smile on his face and looked genuinely happy to see her, but she could tell that something was distracting him. He leaned down and awkwardly patted her shoulders. Skye rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug, and he seemed to relax against her for a few moments before gently backing up and sitting down in the chair beside her bed.

"So, uh, how are you feeling?" he asked.

"Eh…I've been better," she said with a smile. He didn't seem to pick up on her joking tone, though, and a flash of alarm went through his eyes. "I'm fine, Fitz," she reassured him.

He seemed uncomfortable, trying to find something to say, so she decided to help him out. "So…from what I heard, you were my knight in shining armor last night." He looked at her in confusion, and when he saw her smirk he glanced down at his hands, ears reddening.

"Uh…I'm not sure where you heard that. I actually didn't do much. It was all Ward and Simmons who went and brought that cure back for you."

"No, Fitz. _You_ made sure those goonies didn't come in and hurt me. _You_ knocked out four orderlies with the Night-Night gun. Fitz…you're a hero." His whole face had turned red now, and she inwardly smiled. It was so easy to embarrass him. She hoped that he knew she meant what she'd said, but for his sake she opted to change the subject.

"So anything else interesting happen since I've been out of commission?" She had expected him to relax a little, but his face grew even redder and he placed his head in his hands.

"Simmons and I had a fight," he mumbled.

"What? Oh my God, what happened?"

He sat up and sighed. "It's nothing, really. I just…blew up at her for no reason and it was probably the worst thing I could've done."

She eyed him skeptically. "Was it really for no reason?" He looked at her in confusion and she rolled her eyes. "Fitz, I know we're not psychically linked, but I think I know you well enough to know that there was probably a reason."

He looked down at his hands again and shrugged. "All right, so maybe I was a bit upset with what she did on the train."

"You mean the grenade thing?"

She saw him wince. "Yeah," he said quietly, and she scolded herself. She sure had tact, didn't she?

"Sorry…if it makes you feel any better, I was pretty freaked out, too."

He glanced up at her in surprise. "You were?"

Skye was slightly hurt that he didn't think she had been affected, but she pushed that aside. She had been given a second chance to let them all know how much they meant to her, and she wasn't going to waste it. "Of course," she said incredulously. "You guys are like my family now." She hadn't meant to use that particular term, but once she had said it, she knew it was true. This time it was her cheeks that turned red as she looked down at her lap. "I couldn't bear to lose either of you."

"She saved your life, you know," Fitz said quietly.

"She did?"

"Yeah, she was the one who thought to put you in the hyperbaric chamber. When Coulson found you, you didn't even have a pulse." She looked up, alarmed at hearing his voice shake.

"Hey. Fitz," she said, her heart aching at seeing the tears in his eyes. "It's okay. I'm right here."

"I know," he replied with a small smile that quickly disappeared. "Skye…I am _so_ sorry."

She was stunned. "Sorry? What are you talking about?"

"I should never have let you go in there alone. I stayed outside like a coward and let you go in and he-" The words were coming out of his mouth so quickly she could barely understand what he was saying, but she realized what he was getting at and decided to settle this once and for all.

"Hey," she interrupted him, and he fell silent. "_I_ chose to go in there alone. _I_ told you to stay outside and disable the cars. _I _wanted to get Quinn." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I thought I was ready, and I wasn't. But that's on _me_. None of this is on you. None of it." She needed him to believe her. She couldn't let any of them blame themselves for her mistakes. He nodded, not quite looking her in the eyes.

Skye figured it was time to change the subject again. "So how long do you think it'll be before Coulson ever lets me go on another mission?"

He laughed a little, and she felt some of the tension leave the room. "Yeah, I wouldn't count on that happening anytime soon. I'd get used to having him around because he's probably never gonna let you out of his sight ever again." She was about to make some sarcastic remark about how that was _not _going to fly when he seemed to remember something.

"Oh! I, uh...well, you know, we had some down time while we were waiting for you to get out of surgery, and I…you know, it's not important." He was blushing again.

"Fitz," she said, suppressing a laugh. "What is it?"

"Yeah, uh, I just, uh, made a little something for you, is all. It's nothing, really, actually, yeah. You know, you should just…forget about it."

Skye could hardly contain her shock. "You…_made_ something? For _me_?"

He looked as if he was going to dismiss the idea again, but he must have changed his mind at seeing her face. He hesitated before nodding and slowly withdrew from his pocket a small object attached to a thin silver chain. "Really, it's not…it's just, well…here," he said, depositing it in her outstretched palm.

She looked down at the metal object and tried to hide her disappointment. "You made me…a dog whistle?"

Fitz's eyes widened. "No! Well…yes, technically, I suppose it is a dog whistle. I mean-"

"But…I don't…have…a dog," she said slowly, trying not to sound ungrateful but hoping that he would grasp the fact that she didn't, in fact, have a dog.

He sighed, seeming frustrated that he wasn't explaining himself properly. "It _is_ a dog whistle, but not just any dog whistle. This one has been specifically calibrated to emit a frequency that corresponds to one of the Golden Retrievers, you know the, uh, the bots we have that-?" She nodded, remembering how the yellow orbs of light had been able to help the team track down May and Hannah. "Yeah, and obviously it's just a whistle so it's not electronic and can't be knocked out with an EMP device. And the Retrievers work for up to a hundred-mile radius, so I mean as long as you're not, like, halfway around the world or something, and you blow on that whistle, the Retriever will come find you and alert us to where you are." He paused, taking a breath. "I know it's not the greatest and obviously it can't completely protect you, but I thought-"

"Fitz," she whispered, and he grew quiet as he saw the tears in her eyes. "This is…" she paused, speechless. She turned the whistle over in her hands and noticed he had carved her name onto the side. The tears spilled over. "This is…the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

She saw that his face had turned red again, so she wiped away her tears to spare him any further discomfort. But she was still in shock. "You actually _made_ this?"

Skye saw a playful look in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a while. "With my bare hands," he responded and they both laughed.

"You know, Fitz…you didn't have to do this," she said, gesturing towards the whistle.

His expression had grown solemn again. "Everyone was off doing stuff to help you and I was just sitting around being completely useless as usual, so I thought I could-"

She stopped him. "_Useless_? Fitz, what the hell are you talking about?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well…I mean…well, obviously I haven't done anything that could be considered valuable to the team. I mean, everyone knows I'm just here because I come with Simmons and because I'm good with technology, but when it actually boils down to it, none of that even matters and I'm-"

"Don't say it," she ordered, and he looked at her with alarm. She was furious. "Fitz, I don't know what universe you've been living in for the past few months, but something is obviously wrong if you think you've been _useless_. God, don't you even know how important you are?" He stared at her blankly, uncomprehending. "Fitz, none of us would even be alive if it weren't for you! _You_ created the Night-Night gun that stopped Mike from blowing us all up. _You_ helped Simmons find a cure for that alien virus that saved her life. _You_ prevented a freaking war in Russia! And don't even get me started on how many times your inventions have saved us. Fitz, how could you ever think that you were _useless_?"

He broke away from her gaze and stared down at the floor. She could tell he was struggling to find something to say in response. "Fitz…" she said in a softer voice. "Whoever made this little beauty I have in my hands right now is _definitely_ not useless." He looked up again and she smiled at him. "Okay?" she asked.

He nodded, but she could tell that she hadn't completely convinced him. Oh, well. It would be a work in progress. He was looking very uncomfortable at the moment, so she decided to drop it for now.

"You should probably go talk to Simmons." She had meant to say it so that he would have a reason to escape her presence, but he just groaned in response.

"She probably hates me right now."

Despite the seriousness of the previous moment, Skye couldn't help but laugh. "I can almost guarantee you that that is not true."

He looked at her skeptically. "I mean, I blew up at her pretty bad. And she was already feeling so guilty about your whole situation and I just went and made it worse."

"Wait, _she _felt guilty?" Skye threw her hands up in exasperation. "What is it with you two? She saved my life! What does she need to feel guilty about?"

"Well, Coulson put a lot of pressure on her when we didn't know if you would make it or not. She kept a strong face, but I think the thought of losing you really got to her and made her feel responsible for you. A lot of people don't know this, but Jemma actually has a hard time making friends." Skye smiled a little to herself at his use of Simmons's first name. He only ever seemed to use it in front of her when he was too distracted to use the more professional nickname. She was glad. She liked affectionate Fitz.

"She puts herself out there a lot, and she gets along with most people initially, but a lot of the others at school and at the Academy sometimes felt a bit intimidated by her. 'Cause, well, you know how she gets. Sometimes she doesn't even realize how most people aren't on her intelligence level." Skye smiled appreciatively but felt a pang of sympathy for her friend. She knew what it felt like to be alone in a sea of people, unable to make any lasting friendships. She was thankful that Simmons had found Fitz.

"And yeah, with me, we're on the same page." He paused and looked over at her with an expression of subtle amazement. "But ever since she met you, Skye, it's like she's a different person. I mean, she's still Simmons, but…I think you're the first real girlfriend she's ever had." Skye felt her eyes fill with tears again. Did Simmons really consider her that good of a friend?

Fitz didn't seem to notice that she was on the verge of crying. "To be quite honest with you, she'd probably be down for a slumber party with gossip and nail-painting or whatever it is you girls do at slumber parties." She laughed, and he chuckled a little as well. "But yeah…this whole thing has shaken her up a bit." His face fell. "I shouldn't have yelled at her."

"Fitz, I think she'll forgive you." He looked at her dubiously. "I mean, it's _you_." That managed to make him smile a little. "But you should still go talk to her." He nodded, looking distracted.

"And once you two have kissed and made up-"

He immediately began to protest, but she raised her voice over his.

"Oh, gross-"

"_Then_-"

"That's-"

"You can send her over here-"

"Not-"

"For some much-needed-"

"The way-"

"Girl bonding time."

"We do things."

Skye simply raised an eyebrow at him. He continued to look at her with annoyance, but she could see a smile playing on his lips.

* * *

"I don't like it, Hill."

She rolled her eyes again, glad that he couldn't see her. "You _know_ Coulson and his team are the best ones to handle this, sir."

"Can't we just send Barton and Romanoff? They loved Budapest the last time!"

"Uh…I'm not sure we heard the same story, sir. Besides, the city's banned them from setting foot there ever again."

Fury groaned in frustration. "Fine," he huffed. "But I still don't like it."


	13. Chapter 13

He ran into Ward on the way back to the Bus. He was about to completely ignore him and continue on his way when Ward nudged his arm in passing.

"Way to go, Fitz. You made Simmons cry."

Fitz groaned in exasperation. "I know, all right?" He didn't need Ward making him feel any worse than he already did. "I'm going to apologize right now." He shot Ward an irritated glance but saw that he had a smirk on his face.

"Hey, I'm just teasing you," he laughed. "But yeah…you should probably go talk to her."

Fitz nodded, not meeting Ward's eyes, and started to leave.

"Wait," he heard Ward say. Fitz rolled his eyes and turned around. "You're just…going to go in there now?"

Fitz didn't understand what the big deal was. "Well…yeah," he responded.

"Dude," Ward said, a flash of alarm in his eyes. "You're gonna need some ammo."

"Well, you see, I'm not actually _that_ angry with her, Ward."

"No, I mean-" Ward sighed and looked up at the ceiling, seeming to already regret what he was about to do. "Oh, come on. I'll help you."

* * *

"You're joking," Fitz said when he saw where Ward had taken him.

Ward shook his head, but he was actually trying very hard not to laugh. "Absolutely not. You made a mistake, and you need to show her that you're truly sorry."

"No, Ward, you don't understand. Simmons and I don't operate like this. She's gonna think I've gone mad-"

"Fitz, this is the _right thing to do_," Ward interrupted him pointedly. He tried desperately to keep the grin off of his face, but seeing Fitz looking so distressed in the middle of the flower aisle of the hospital gift shop was almost too much.

Ward had been surprised. For all the trouble that this medical facility had caused them, and despite being in the middle of Nowhere, Europe, it still managed to have a pretty well-equipped gift shop with flowers that he was fairly sure didn't grow anywhere nearby. He would never understand some of the inner workings of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Fitz was still looking extremely uncomfortable. Ward didn't actually know if making him get flowers for Simmons was the right thing to do. He had found himself in a lot of tight spots over the years, but he'd never been in a situation that had called upon the use of flowers to be part of the solution. (Except for that one time in Dubai, but it had hardly been under the same circumstances.) He just figured it was a nice gesture. Simmons deserved something nice after all she'd been through today.

"Come on, Fitz," he said, crossing his arms.

Fitz gave him a panicked look. He had his hands on his waist and was tapping his foot, turning in tight circles as he looked at the bouquets around him. "Ward, I'm serious. I have no idea what to-"

Ward cut him off. "What's her favorite flower?"

"What, you think I know-" he began defensively, but when he saw Ward's raised eyebrows his voice trailed off. He gave a frustrated groan in response and begrudgingly leaned over to grab a bouquet of daisies.

Ward couldn't hide his amusement anymore. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Fitz shot him a death glare, but Ward just laughed.

When they exited the gift shop, they were about to part ways when Ward figured that he should probably practice what he preached. "Hey, Fitz?"

Fitz turned around, mouth open to say something in irritation, but he must have noticed the serious expression on Ward's face because he kept his comment to himself. "What?"

Ward hesitated. "Look…about what I said earlier…"

Fitz waved a hand dismissively, but he avoided Ward's eyes. "Just forget about it, Ward."

Ward needed Fitz to know that he hadn't meant what he'd said about him being in the way. He had just been under a lot of stress and lashed out at him. But it had been a manifestation of his own anxieties and had had nothing to do with Fitz. He was actually thankful for Fitz. Skye wouldn't have made it if he hadn't kept watch over her while Ward had been gone.

"But-"

"Just let it go, all right?" Fitz looked down at the ground. "It's been a long day and we've all done…things that we should just probably forget about, yeah?"

Ward wanted to argue with him, but something told him not to push it. "Yeah," he sighed. "Okay."

Fitz glanced up at him briefly and nodded before turning around and heading towards the Bus.

* * *

She took a shaky breath and wiped the remainders of the tears left on her face. She really just needed a nice cuppa and maybe a long bath (too bad the Bus didn't have one of those, but she would settle for a shower). The tiredness came in waves, and she felt as if her limbs had been turned to lead. It had been, undoubtedly, the longest day of her life.

Ward had told her to talk to Fitz, but Jemma knew that Fitz probably wanted to be left alone for a little while longer. Most of the time, she felt confident in seeking him out after an argument, but since they'd both been through so much today and considering that this fight was their most severe, she doubted her presence would be wanted. She closed her eyes and sighed, resting her hands on her neck. He had been really upset.

When she heard footsteps enter the lab, she stood up so abruptly that she almost knocked over the stool she'd been sitting on. Fitz was standing there, avoiding her gaze and looking very uncomfortable.

"Oh! Um…hi," she stammered, and winced. She hated when things were awkward between them.

He simply nodded in return and seemed to look everywhere but at her. She suddenly noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hands. What on earth…?

"Is that-" she started, and then tried again. "Are those-?" She gave him a look of utter confusion, hoping that he would help her out. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and simply walked up to her, gingerly grabbed her hand, and placed the flowers in her grasp before awkwardly stepping back a few steps. His face had turned a deep shade of crimson and he was furiously avoiding her gaze. She was stunned, and simply stared in open-mouthed bewilderment down at the daisies in her hands. Fitz had done some strange things before, but this definitely topped the list.

He placed his palm on his forehead and groaned. "It was Ward's idea."

"Oh," she said, recovering her composure. That made _so_ much more sense. "Well…that was nice of him. Um…let me just find something…" Her voice trailed off as she looked around the lab for something to put the flowers in. Her eyes fell on a graduated cylinder and she immediately grabbed it before walking over to the sink and filling it up with water. As she set the bouquet in the glass and began to arrange the flowers, it was her turn to avoid looking at him. "This is probably not very safe, I mean when the Bus takes off it won't be secure at all so we should probably put it upstairs, yes, putting them upstairs would be nice so then everyone can see them." She was rambling. "And obviously we wouldn't be able to keep them in the lab, because we have no idea what kind of bacteria could be on them that could potentially interfere with-"

"Jemma," Fitz said softly. He had slowly walked up next to her as she was furiously arranging the daisies and placed a hand on her elbow. Her movements stilled, but she remained staring at the flowers, unable to look at him. She heard him take a deep breath.

"Jemma, I-"

She forced herself to turn her head, giving him the most sincere smile she could muster. "Fitz, you don't have to say anything. I know-"

"No, Jemma," he said more forcibly. He paused, looking in her eyes with a fierce intensity before breaking away and staring down at his hands, which were absentmindedly playing with a stray thread on her sweater. "What I said was out of line. It was stupid and cowardly and I shouldn't have done it."

She couldn't let him take all of the blame, even though under any other circumstances she would have smiled triumphantly and laughed in his face. "Fitz, it's fine. It's been a long day for everyone. And besides, it's not like you were completely…wrong," she admitted, growing quiet.

He shook his head. "That's no excuse. Especially since you've worked so hard today to save Skye."

Jemma snorted. "Oh, please. Like anything I did today actually helped Skye."

His hands had stopped playing with the thread on her sweater. He looked up at her, and she could feel his concerned eyes boring into the side of her face. "What the hell are you talking about, Jemma?"

She avoided his gaze. Should she tell him about what she had seen under the microscope? She didn't even know what its implications were. All she knew was that there was something different about Skye, that there was something in her blood that was able to naturally stabilize Extremis. Who was she to speculate about what that could mean? Skye was safe, and that was all that mattered. She decided to keep this small discovery a secret. She actually had a feeling that it wasn't quite a _small_ discovery, but for once in her life, she lacked the enthusiastic desire to share it with the world. Jemma felt uneasy about hiding something from Fitz, but she told herself that it was her responsibility as Skye's friend and teammate to keep this to herself. At least for now.

But she didn't have to completely lie outright. "Well…I mean…well, it's not like in the grand scheme of things anything I've done today actually…mattered." She was looking down at the table and could see Fitz fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. Oh, dear. She'd upset him again.

"Jemma-" he began in a strangled voice. She looked up at him in alarm to see a very pained expression on his face. "Skye _was practically dead_ when we found her. You are the _only reason_ that she is alive right now, okay? It was _you_ who thought to put her in that chamber, and it was _you _who thought to go to London and get that serum for her. We wouldn't even have gotten into this mess if I hadn't-" His voice cracked and he broke away from her gaze, his eyes glistening with tears.

What was he talking about? "Fitz…"

"Why didn't I stop her?" he whispered. "I could've-"

No. This was unacceptable. She turned to face him and took hold of his hand. "As if you could stop Skye from doing _anything_ she set her mind to."

He simply shook his head, not seeing her in front of him. "Shouldn't have let her go after Quinn by herself. What was I thinking?"

"Fitz, don't you dare." His eyes focused on hers at hearing the gravity in her tone. "It is not. Your. Fault," she said firmly. "Quinn is the one who hurt her, and Quinn is the one to blame. Not you." She saw a flash of something in his eyes at the mention of Quinn's name, but he looked away from her again before she could decipher it. She was going to release his hand, but he had absentmindedly started tracing circles on hers, so she remained where she was. They were silent for a few moments, and she could tell that he was weighing the decision of whether or not to say something. She heard him take a breath.

"I didn't know it was dendrotoxin, Jemma," he murmured, still staring at her hand in his.

She had been expecting him to say something about Quinn, so she was momentarily thrown. He hadn't known what was dendrotoxin? Her heart started hammering. Had he figured out about Skye?

"What?" she breathed.

He hesitated again. "The grenade you threw yourself at. I didn't know it was dendrotoxin."

"You didn't?" she whispered. She had assumed after she had woken up in the luggage car that both Fitz and Skye had already figured out its effects. Fitz continued to avoid her eyes, and she focused on keeping her breathing steady. She knew that saying it would change things between them. She knew that saying it was admitting to something that she herself hadn't even realized. Saying it would introduce a whole new set of problems that they would have to deal with. Saying it was going past the point of no return. But she owed him this much.

"Me neither," she said. His head snapped up at hearing the tears in her voice.

And then there was no space left between them. She was in his arms and sobbing into his shoulder, and he was gently stroking her back, murmuring that everything was going to be okay. She'd cried so much today, but this time she was crying for something that she didn't quite understand.

She had been so excited to join this team, and she thought she had known what she was getting herself and Fitz into. But the situations they had been placed in were unlike anything she could have anticipated. She thought that being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the field meant putting everyone else's needs ahead of her own, regardless of safety. But as Fitz tightened his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder, trembling slightly from his own tears, she realized that she had been reckless. Jemma Simmons? Reckless? It was absurd, but deep down she knew it to be true. She hadn't thought about how her actions would affect Fitz, because she hadn't thought it would have been a big deal to him. But she now understood that that had been wrong of her. If he had done the same things she had, it would've destroyed her. They were FitzSimmons, for goodness' sake. He was Fitz and she was Simmons and they could function without each other but why the hell would they want to? They were better together.

After a while, their tears had stopped, but they still held onto each other. She knew that she should probably break away, but for the moment she was content to just be in the arms of her best friend. They both sighed at the same time and laughed a little at their unintentional synchronization. (Not that their synchronization had ever been intentional.)

"Fitz," she mumbled into his shoulder. "What's wrong with me?"

He stiffened a little in response and gently removed himself from her arms so he could look her in the eyes. "Nothing is wrong with you, Jemma."

She sighed in exasperation. "But you yourself said that I have some kind of death wish!"

He smiled a little, but she could still see anxiety on his face. "I'll admit, you are showing signs of having what I think I'll refer to as a Captain America Complex." She laughed despite herself, but couldn't keep her face from falling again. "But Jemma, whatever…_this_…is," he said, gesturing towards her vaguely, "we'll figure it out. We'll do what we always do. We'll fix it…"

"Together," she said along with him, and it was like a huge burden had been lifted off of her shoulders. He smiled and reached out to brush a lone tear off of her cheek. His ears turned pink as he seemed to realize what he was doing and he quickly removed his hand, staring down at the floor. She was blushing, too, but she didn't quite know why.

"You owe me ten quid, by the way," Fitz said. She looked up at him in confusion.

"What? Why?"

He smirked at her and folded his arms. "Fury _definitely_ sleeps with it on."

* * *

She had to admit, she didn't think it was possible that anything could surprise her anymore. But when Coulson had explained what he had found out about Skye in London, she had been stunned. She had remained silent as Coulson avoided her eyes and told her about how he had given Skye the dendrotoxin, and even though May felt immense relief for Skye's recovery, she couldn't help but be alarmed with Coulson's behavior.

"Why did you do it?" she asked after he had finished.

He glanced up at her confusedly. "Do what?"

"Phil, they were going to give her that stuff anyways. Fury said so. And still you fought tooth and nail, risking the lives of the rest of the team so that you could…what? Give it to her yourself?"

Coulson looked conflicted and let his arms fall at his sides. "What else was I supposed to do, Melinda? I couldn't let _them_ touch her." His voice faltered, and he paused. She was about to respond when he took a deep breath. "Skye is on this team because of _me_. She's _my_ responsibility. And now that we know more about her past, she's in more danger than ever. We…_I _need to make sure that she's not as vulnerable as S.H.I.E.L.D. wants her to be." He paused again before looking her in the eyes. "What happened yesterday can't happen again, Melinda. Our team can't handle it. _I_ can't handle it."

She walked up to him and placed a hand on his arm. "I think you underestimate yourself, Phil." He gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. She lowered her hand and sighed.

"You know he's not going to let you get away with this, right?"

He winced. "Yeah, I guess what happened back there was pretty bad."

She raised an eyebrow. Pretty bad? Yeah, she supposed blowing up what had to have been a billion-dollar project and knocking out the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was considered pretty bad.

"You didn't just go against protocol. You jeopardized the whole T.A.H.I.T.I. project."

He avoided her gaze again, a guilty look on his face. "What?" she asked.

Coulson seemed to weigh his options and then must have realized to whom he was talking. "I…didn't exactly jeopardize the _whole_ project."

"What do you mean? The lab's gone, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, that's true…but I have all the results of the trials," he responded with a glint in his eyes. "Everything, Melinda. The names of all those kids. What they gave them, where they are. Everything."

May was baffled, which on her face just meant that she looked really ticked off. "So you agree with what S.H.I.E.L.D. has been doing? You gave that stuff to Skye so she could…what? Lead an army against the Clairvoyant?"

"Maybe," Coulson replied, looking doubtful. At her angry expression, he held up his hands. "Okay, no!" He groaned. "I don't know! I just- Fury's right, Melinda. We have no idea how to deal with these threats that keep coming at us. We need something different. Maybe these kids are what we need."

"But _they_ didn't ask for it, Phil." Her voice was deadly quiet.

He nodded, trying to get her to calm down. "You're right. They didn't. And that's why we're not going to do anything about it until we know more. If Skye wants to do it, she will, but it'll be on _her terms_. And that goes for all of the rest of the kids. _Nothing_ _more_ will happen to them without their permission."

"Phil, when I say that Fury isn't going to let you get away with this, you know what I mean, right?"

Coulson met her gaze and she could tell that he knew all of his hopes about T.A.H.I.T.I.'s future were pointless. He nodded. "Yeah. I know."

There was a heavy pause. "It's been a pleasure working with you, Melinda-"

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a call coming onto the screen. Coulson immediately turned around, and she saw him straighten up to his full height as Fury greeted them.

"Agent Coulson, Agent May, we've got a problem. I'm sending you some footage, it should be coming into your feed right about now."

Coulson looked confused but seemed to recover his composure as he and May watched the screen fill with a news report showing what looked like massive destruction in a downtown setting. The news title on the bottom of the screen read "Red-Haired Beauty Wreaks Havoc in Hungary." Fury continued to speak over shots of a girl with flaming orange hair walking through the streets, wearing a very flimsy getup. Cars were being blasted with what appeared to be lightning bolts, and as she made her way along the middle of the road, men were literally falling at her feet. Oh, no. Not again.

"It looks like we've got another Stuttgart situation on our hands. Only this time it's not Loki tearing Europe apart. We don't really know who this girl is, whether she's Asgardian or Loki's evil ginger girlfriend or whatever, but we're gonna need your team to go in, assess the damage, and apprehend her. And you're gonna need to do it now."

Coulson looked dumbfounded. "But-"

"_Now_, Agent Coulson." Before he could respond, the screen went black as Fury ended the call.

Coulson looked over at May. "Guess I got off easy, huh?" he asked. He was smiling, but she could see the fear in his eyes. She just gave him a look. There was no way that this was over. And there was no way that whatever _this _was, was getting off easy.

Garrett was standing outside of the conference room when they walked out. "Well, Coulson, you sure know how to throw a party."

"It's not over yet," Coulson smirked. "How would you like to stick around with us for a little while? We've got another Asgardian on the loose, and S.H.I.E.L.D. is making us the welcome wagon."

Garrett sighed, looking wary. "I don't know, Coulson. Those people always bring a little too much baggage with them, you know? This guy doesn't have a hammer, does he?"

"No," Coulson replied. "She doesn't."

"Yeah, you know, I could use a break from London. Those Brits are too serious."

May wrestled with all of her inner demons to keep from rolling her eyes.

"But, uh, I've got some stuff to take care of before we jet off to capture this alien goddess. Shouldn't take too long. Just try not to leave without me." Coulson nodded in response and headed towards his office.

May waited until Coulson was out of earshot before turning to Garrett. He looked as if he was about to say something, but before he could process what was happening, she had pinned him up against the wall, her arm shoved under his chin cutting off his airway.

"Losing your touch, Garrett?" she hissed at him.

He tried to say something in response, but she pushed her forearm further into his neck. "No. Don't speak. I know you had plenty of time to disable the bombs in that warehouse. And if you had failed, you wouldn't be here, so listen carefully. If I find out that you endangered the lives of my team by letting those bombs go off, I will make your life so miserable you'll wish you had stayed in that hellhole S.H.I.E.L.D. found you in."

"It's good to see you, too, Melinda," Garrett croaked, trying to smile at her. She released her grip on him and stormed off, leaving him rubbing his sore neck.

* * *

He paced outside of the doorway, seriously considering throwing away the yellow roses he had in his hands. He didn't even know why he had picked yellow. Ward considered himself a pretty simple guy, and he figured roses were a pretty simple flower. But he thought red would be too weird and when he'd seen the yellow, he thought that she'd like them. Yellow was a happy color, right? He thought she had said she liked yellow…or maybe it had been purple. Ward stared at them in panic. He was not good at this.

He had just made the decision to toss them when he heard a voice coming from inside the room. "You gonna take off your coat and stay awhile?" He closed his eyes. Of course she had realized he had been standing there. He sheepishly leaned in the doorway and tentatively made his way towards her bed. Skye's eyes lit up when she saw the flowers.

"Are those for _me_?" When he gave her a small nod, her smile grew wider. "_Wow_. Agent Grant Ward got me flowers? It must be a special day."

"All right, all right," he said, rolling his eyes playfully. "I get it. The Tin Man has a heart after all."

She laughed as he placed the flowers in the empty vase beside her bed. "They're beautiful, Ward. Thank you."

He gave her a curt nod, avoiding her eyes, and looked around for a chair to sit down in. She moved her legs over to the side and patted the spot in front of her. When he eyed her skeptically, she rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll leave room for Jesus."

He hesitated before gingerly sitting down on the bed. "Um…so you're all…uh…okay, I mean?" he gestured vaguely towards her stomach, and winced. Had the day's events completely erased his ability to form a complete sentence?

He saw her suppress a snicker. "I'm fine, Ward. I'm totally healed. I actually don't even know what I'm still doing here. Although, I hate to admit it, but the food here is _slightly_ better than that stuff we have on the Bus."

Ward ignored her last comment, surprised at her recovery rate. "Wow, I guess that stuff really worked on you, huh?"

He saw something unreadable pass through her eyes, but it disappeared as she smiled again. "Yeah, it's amazing. I feel fantastic." Her eyes widened as she looked at his right shoulder. "_Whoa_. Ward. What happened to you?"

"What?" He glanced down at his shoulder in confusion and saw the still-healing wound. "Oh, yeah. Oh, that was…I got…stabbed." At her alarmed expression, he held up his hands to reassure her. "Yesterday. On the train. I'm fine." He'd actually completely forgotten about that particular incident. Had it really only been yesterday?

"Still," she said, awe in her voice. "You should get that looked at."

He looked at her incredulously. "You were shot!"

She smirked a little and placed her fists on her waist. "'Skin deep. Nothing to worry about,'" she said in what he assumed was supposed to be an impression of him but just made her sound like she had a really nasty case of bronchitis. He didn't really sound like that, did he?

"You know that's not actually what 'skin deep' means, right?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "I _know_, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I was just trying to lighten the mood." She sighed. "It's been a hell of a couple of days, hasn't it?"

"Tell me about it." He was starting to feel the exhaustion of being awake for so long, not to mention the soreness in his muscles from overexertion. As he glanced over at her, he saw a compassion in her eyes that startled him. How could she be looking at him like that when he had failed her?

"Skye…" he began, unsure how to put what he wanted to say into words. He looked down at his hands. "What happened yesterday…was my fault. As your S.O., I should've been there to make sure you didn't get hurt-"

"I swear, if one more person blames themselves for my stupid mistakes, I will explode." He glanced up in alarm to see her giving him an expression so angry he nearly backed up off the bed. "Grant. I am the _only_ person to blame for what happened yesterday. Not you. Not Fitz. Not Coulson. Me." He didn't completely agree with her, but for the sake of appeasing her fury he nodded in response. She relaxed a little before saying, "And that douche, Quinn. I mean, obviously. He's the one who actually shot me."

She was trying to get him to smile, but her words weren't very comforting. He started absentmindedly playing with the fabric on the bed next to her hand. "We're glad you're okay, Skye." He corrected himself. "_I'm_…glad you're okay. You scared us there for a bit."

He still couldn't look at her, but when she grabbed onto his hand he glanced up to see her grinning. "Hey. It's gonna take a _little_ bit more effort to get rid of me. Besides, I still haven't become a full-fledged S.H.I.E.L.D. agent yet." That managed to make him smile a little. She gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it and settling back into the pillows.

"So, Mr. Supervising Officer, sir, are you gonna yell at me for barging into a hostile situation with no backup or do I have to do it myself?"

He fixed an expression of mock austerity on his face and folded his arms. "You're right. That was pretty stupid. And you're _definitely_ going to be paying for it in pull-ups once you get back in training."

She frowned, giving him some very convincing puppy eyes, and they both burst out laughing. When the laughter had subsided, she groaned. "I'm so lame. I can't even go on a real mission without getting shot and almost dying."

Ward smiled in response but felt a pain in his chest. "Well, what did you expect? You're not done with your training yet. And besides…you're only human."

* * *

He looked up when he heard a knock on his open office door.

"Yes, Agent Fitz? Is everything all right?"

Coulson stood up as Fitz entered the room. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine, Simmons just went to go see Skye, I think. Um, sir, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?"

"Actually, Fitz, I've got a lot on my plate right now…" he began, but changed his mind. He had been making arrangements for them to leave for Budapest immediately, but he still had to inform the rest of the team of their assignment, and since he knew Fitz had been through hell today, he figured Asgard could wait a little longer. "You know what? Yeah, I've got a minute. What's up?"

Fitz nodded and closed the door behind him, looking nervous but oddly calm. He walked up to stand in front of Coulson's desk, and Coulson felt a small pang in his heart at seeing Fitz hold himself so formally. He was a lot older than the kid who had joined his team only a few months ago. They all were, really.

"Sir, I realize that it probably won't happen right away, but I was wondering if, the next time we got back to the States, you could maybe arrange for me to retake my field assessment."

Coulson was surprised. He had been expecting Fitz to address a concern about Simmons's recent altruistic behavior, or even to call him out on his own strange behavior today. But as he thought back on the day's events, Coulson realized that he probably should have seen this coming.

"Agent Fitz, if this is about last night, I'm really sorry for having left you here. But those orders? They didn't have anything to do with your lack of abilities. It was actually the opposite. I knew that you were the only one capable of making sure that no one hurt Skye. And I was right."

Fitz was shaking his head, but Coulson could tell that he was a little shocked at his words. "Thank you, sir, but that's not why I want to retake the test. I wasn't ready to take it the first time, but I am now." He was looking at Coulson with a resolute determination.

Coulson hesitated as he considered the options. "Okay," he said. "Yeah, I think we can arrange that. But it'll have to wait a little while. We've got some business to attend to."

Fitz nodded, looking extremely relieved. "Yes, of course. Thank you, sir."

Coulson sat back down at his desk and looked down at the piles of paperwork he had in front of him. Without looking up, he said, "I'll talk to Ward and see if he can help you with your preparations."

"Actually, sir." Coulson glanced up. "I was wondering if _you_ wouldn't mind helping me prepare." Coulson must have looked completely baffled, because Fitz's eyes widened. "It wouldn't have to take a lot of your time and I can actually probably do a lot of it on my own, but-" He sighed, and looked like he was trying very hard to get the next words out. "Ward's…great…and all, but I'm not like him. I don't have the same kind of…strengths…as he does."

Coulson was trying not to smirk. What was Fitz getting at? That Coulson also didn't have the same kind of strengths Ward had? He thought about being offended but realized that Fitz was right. Coulson wasn't scrawny, but he also wasn't Ward. And as he took in the young engineer in front of him, Coulson realized with a heavy heart that Fitz wasn't scrawny either. But, well, when you stood him up next to Ward…

Fitz must have realized what he had been implying because his eyes widened even further. "Not that you don't have similar strengths as Agent Ward, sir, but I uh, I just-" He sighed again, gathering himself. "I think I could learn a lot more from you, sir." His face had turned red and he was looking like he was regretting this request more and more with every word. Coulson decided to put him out of his misery. But if he was honest with himself, he was actually very proud of him.

"I'd be honored, Agent Fitz."

* * *

She managed to give Ward a tight smile, hoping that he wouldn't notice her faltered expression. She was still reeling from the recent developments regarding her own identity. She could barely understand it herself, let alone discuss it with Ward. Thankfully she was saved from responding when Simmons nervously ducked into the doorway, knocking lightly. "Um…Skye? Oh!" Simmons noticed Ward and looked like she was about to run away when Ward immediately stood up and moved to the side of the room. She looked over at Skye with wide-eyed apprehension.

Skye simply held out her arms and the next thing she knew Simmons had run over to her and threw her arms around her. Skye laughed and hugged her tightly. She would never have guessed that she would ever be friends with someone like Simmons, but life had definitely been full of surprises lately. Skye knew that under all of Simmons's scientific bravado and introverted behavior, she had one of the kindest hearts in the world. Skye had a fleeting thought that if she could have a sister, she would want Simmons. But she pushed that thought away. However close she and Simmons had grown over the past few months, Skye knew that Simmons would treat her differently once she knew about her past. It was in her nature.

After a few moments, she realized that Simmons was crying. She instinctively hugged her tighter. "Hey, Simmons, it's okay," she said, laughing a little. She pulled away to look at her, and Simmons looked down to see if she had brushed up against her side.

"Oh! I'm sorry, did I hurt you? Do you need anything? Any more bandages or something? Well, no, I suppose you wouldn't need any bandages, but-"

"Simmons," Skye tried to interrupt her, but she kept rambling, tears streaming down her face.

"Skye, I'm so sorry, I can't even imagine how much you've been hurt, and I tried to get in to make sure the doctors didn't mess up your surgery but they wouldn't let me in and then I had no idea-"

"Simmons," Skye tried again.

"How to help you and then Coulson had me look at _Level 10_ records and honestly it was so stressful but I was just so worried that you wouldn't make it and I had no idea what else to do and I'm afraid I didn't help you at all, really, and I am so terribly sorry, Skye, you must think I'm a terrible person-"

"_Jemma_!" Skye exclaimed. That shut her up. "You saved my life." She paused, trying to keep her own tears from spilling over. "I'll never forget that."

Simmons just looked at her and nodded, unable to speak. Skye searched her eyes for a sign of judgment or fear, indicating how much she knew about her heritage. She was surprised to see nothing but the same kindness and affection as before. Maybe Skye had been wrong. Maybe Simmons wouldn't treat her differently. Or maybe she just hadn't figured it out yet. Skye decided to keep this friend for as long as possible, but she knew that she would probably have to tell her the truth eventually. Simmons was too smart. Still. She would be sad to lose her.

Just then, Coulson and May walked into the room, followed by Fitz. Simmons stood up and went to stand in between Coulson and Fitz, and Skye noticed that Fitz automatically moved so that their arms were touching. Good. Skye didn't want to be in a world where FitzSimmons were fighting (any more than usual). Simmons wiped the tears off of her face and muttered, "Oh, dear. I'm a mess."

Skye was about to respond when Coulson turned and placed a hand on Simmons's shoulder. "No," he said, looking at her with an almost paternal pride. "You were great." Simmons gave a feeble smile in return and stared down at the floor. Coulson continued to look at her with concern, and Skye knew that he was going to be watching Simmons more closely in the future. Which was good, because Simmons needed to stop doing things like jumping out of airplanes.

"Welcome back," May said, interrupting her thoughts. She quickly turned her head to see a small smile playing on May's lips.

Skye was still unused to May's rare moments of affection, but she managed to recover her surprise. "Thank you," she whispered, and May gave her a subtle nod. Skye noticed Ward was looking slightly uncomfortable and had moved a little more to the side. She didn't really know what that was all about, but hopefully they would all have the chance to sit around and exchange stories about what had actually gone down while she'd been out. Maybe they could take a vacation or something, go somewhere nice. Somewhere tropical.

Just not Tahiti.

As she looked around the room at her team, she couldn't keep her heart from swelling. She realized with a start that she loved all of them. Every single one of them. (Yes, even May.) They were more than just her team. They were her family. She had spent her entire life trying to find the place where she had come from, had spent years attempting to track down her real family. But as she saw the exhaustion on all of their faces and the relief in all of their eyes, indications of how hard they had worked to save her, she knew that she had found them. They say you can't choose your family. But Skye disagreed. She had chosen this one. It might be crazy and dysfunctional and she would probably never gather around the table with them for Thanksgiving dinner. But they were hers.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

"So…I guess a group hug is out of the question?"

May rolled her eyes but had a smirk on her face, and Ward just raised his eyebrows at her. FitzSimmons collectively took a step forward and then looked slightly crestfallen when they realized no one else was following them.

"How about a rain check?" Coulson asked, smiling. "We're gonna need everyone to suit up. We're going to Budapest."

The entire room exploded in an eruption of voices.

* * *

He walked briskly down the abandoned alleyway, glancing at his watch. He hoped this wouldn't take long. Coulson and his team were going to take off soon, but Garrett knew that if he didn't keep his appointment, the consequences would be more severe than being stranded in the middle of Europe.

He tapped his foot impatiently and was just about to check behind the next building when he was suddenly grabbed from behind. A fierce grip took hold of his arm, twisting it behind his back, and Garrett glanced down to see a metal leg stepping on his foot, preventing him from moving. Despite himself, his eyes widened. So the rumors were true.

"The Clairvoyant is disappointed in you," a voice whispered in his ear. Garrett fought against the grip on his arm, but his assailant was unyielding.

"I've done what he asked," he gasped against the pain. "I'm practically on the team now. They trust me."

The grip became tighter, even though Garrett hadn't thought that was possible. "Because of your interference, the girl is still alive. Things are not going according to plan. You need to fix the problem. Soon. I think you know what will happen if you fail."

Before he could say anything in reply, he was released with a push that nearly sent him sprawling on the ground. He quickly turned around to get a good look at his attacker.

The alleyway was empty.

* * *

"Fitz, just leave it. We don't have time for this."

"No, Simmons," Fitz replied from under one of the chairs in the hospital waiting room. "We're not leaving until we find it." Jemma just sighed in exasperation.

"What is it he's looking for again?" he heard Ward mutter.

"Oh, it's just a silly little thing, really. It's a brainteaser that he has _dozens more of back on the Bus_," Simmons responded, aiming that last part at Fitz, who had moved over to one of the couches and was searching under the cushions.

"So…it's a toy," Ward said.

Fitz rolled his eyes in irritation. He didn't want to explain why he wanted this particular Cube, because it would bring up questions he didn't quite want to answer. So he settled for his usual defense mechanism.

"No, it's not a _toy_, Ward. It's a highly sophisticated three-dimensional combination puzzle that someone like yourself couldn't possibly even begin to understand-"

"You looking for this?"

They all spun around in surprise to see the receptionist holding up his Cube. Fitz walked over to take it from her and realized that all the colors were lined up. He could've sworn it had only been partially solved when he'd thrown it across the room.

"Did you solve this?" he asked her. She looked a little dazed, like she wasn't used to answering questions a lot, which was pretty strange considering she was a receptionist.

"Is that how you solve it then? I just made all the colors match up. It was bothering me, 'cause I have this thing with colors." At his raised eyebrow, she clarified, "Obsessive compulsive. But anyway, yeah, it took me about a minute. Why, is it like hard or something?"

For about the tenth time that day, Fitz found himself speechless.

* * *

He was fairly certain he'd never been more bored in his life. The hours crawled by in that interrogation room, but despite the tedium he figured he probably couldn't be in a safer place. Especially considering the fact that he hadn't managed to kill the girl. No, this was probably the only place on earth where he could escape the Clairvoyant's wrath.

All of a sudden the lights went out. He heard the door open and sighed loudly. "How many emotionally unstable S.H.I.E.L.D. agents does it take to interrogate _one_ _guy_?" The door closed quietly behind his newest visitor and Quinn squinted in the darkness, trying to identify a face. He felt dread settle in his stomach with every passing second of silence. He supposed he should've known this was coming. S.H.I.E.L.D. was pretty good, but the Clairvoyant had always been one step ahead of them.

The last words Quinn heard were spoken in an icy voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "You failed," it hissed, before something wrapped itself around Quinn's neck. His eyes widened at the voice that he knew he had heard somewhere before. But no…that was impossible. That voice hadn't spoken in nearly a hundred years. That voice could only be heard in archived footage in the depths of buildings even Fury didn't know existed.

The last thought that went through Quinn's head before his neck snapped was:

_It actually worked_.

FIN

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read my take on T.A.H.I.T.I. This whole experience has been absolutely mind-blowing. I never thought that I would be able to do something like this, but your kind words and support helped me reach the end. I now know that the March 4 episode will not happen like this, but it's still been an absolute blast to play around with my theories and the characters. I apologize for the small cliffhanger...but I DID say I wanted to make it as much like a real Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. episode as possible. ;)**

**Below is a link to the story's soundtrack as well as the track listing. These are just a collection of songs that I was inspired by while writing this. It's in some semblance of a chronological order, but most of the songs can be applied to more than one scene/character, so feel free to make your own interpretations.**

**8tracks msdevindanielle/t-a-h-i-t-i**

**1. Marvel Studios Fanfare - Brian Tyler**

**2. 24 - Jem**

**3. Pompeii - Jasmine Thompson**

**4. Heavy in Your Arms - Florence and the Machine**

**5. Set the Fire to the Third Bar - Snow Patrol feat. Martha Wainwright**

**6. Palladio - Escala**

**7. Bravado - Lorde**

**8. A Pain That I'm Used To - Depeche Mode**

**9. Extremis - Brian Tyler**

**10. Say Something - Chloe Elizabeth**

**11. All These Things That I've Done - The Killers**

**12. The Scientist - Coldplay**

**13. Human - Christina Perri**

**14. Skyfall - Adele**

**15. Safe and Sound - Capital Cities**

******Also, a huge thank you to my lovely sister Chloe Elizabeth for lending her voice to the soundtrack. She also designed the book/mix cover! Another thank you to my best friend Gabriella for making sure I keep the characters in line with the show. These two ladies in my life had immense patience with me over the past few weeks.**

**Again, thank you so much for reading.**

**Much love,**

**MsDevinDanielle**


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